In the Darkness
by The Wandering Bard
Summary: The Phoenix Corps, a powerful fanatical terrorist organization with mysterious dangerous goals. Joel Graves, top CIA operative, sent on a mission to recover something vital to their plans, but gets more than he bargains for. And when the world is suddenly plunged into chaos he struggles to not only survive, but to save his family as humanity falls into darkness. AU May be M later
1. Light the Fire

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own The Last of Us.

**Note: **Completely different plot and AU. Enjoy!

**In the Darkness**

Light the Fire

* * *

Gray clouds hung low across the sky, stretching for miles and miles around and dampening the sunlight into a shadowy gloom.

He eyed the clouds for a moment, watching as they moved swiftly across the vast sky. The wind seemed to be blowing stronger with each passing minute, as if trying to bring the storm in from the sea faster. As time passed, the clouds grew darker, more menacing. A fitting day to begin the journey towards his ultimate vision.

His gaze drifted downward, taking in the sight of the bustling city before him from the fantastic viewpoint of his top-floor office, several hundred feet off the ground. Off in the distance he could see the famous London Eye, a giant Ferris wheel situated next to the Thames River. Close to the Eye stood Big Ben, the famed clock tower of London as it continued it's timekeeping vigil over the city. He could see parts of the Thames River itself as it snaked its way through the city, it's waters dark and mysterious.

Gaze going even lower, he watched the traffic driving by and the people walking along, living out their lives, oblivious to the tall man in a finely tailored suit observing them from above. He wondered how many of them would survive what was to come.

The sound of his office door opening echoed across the largely silent office, the ensuing footsteps on the marble floors loud and unapologetic.

"Everything is in place, sir. We're ready to begin and only await your orders," said the voice of his second-in-command from behind him.

Those words caused his heart to pump a little faster, excitement filling him. He breathed in slowly, a deep breath that filled his lungs, and then he exhaled just as slowly in an attempt to calm himself. He turned away from the enormous floor-to-ceiling window, one of three that made up three out of the four walls of his cavernous office. He placed his left hand on top of the genuine leather office chair situated behind a heavy, ebony wood desk with various carvings on it, the most prominent of which was a giant bird - a phoenix - that was carved into the forward-facing portion of the desk.

His second stood a few paces in front of the desk, a dark-haired man with an eye-patch over his left eye and a long scar running across the side of his face and over the eye up to a little past his eyebrow. According to him, it was a battle wound during some long ago conflict in whatever eastern European country he was originally from. Black facial hair, about an inch thick, encircled his mouth and a well-kept beard ran along his jawline. He stood straight, as much a testimony to his military past as his scars and his well-built physique.

His steady gaze was returned by his second, not a shadow of emotion could be seen between either of them. Blue eyes met gray eye, the former seemingly testing the will of the latter through a staring contest. Eventually he replied, though his gaze did not leave the eye of his second.

"Good work. And the helicopter?" His voice was strong and cultured, the sound of a man of privilege.

His second responded in his rough voice, "Fueled and waiting, sir."

"Excellent."

A bottle of fine scotch sat, waiting to be used, next to some glasses on a side table and he walked towards it. Filling up a glass, he took a sip, letting the alcohol run down his throat. He nodded in approval and then turned back towards the windows, glass still in hand.

"Do you believe in our cause, Viktor?" he asked, glancing at the dark-haired man and noting the slightest hint of surprise in his features.

"Of course I believe, sir."

"Of course you believe," he repeated as soon as Viktor had spoken, "But can you tell me why?" His eyes watched the dark-haired man with interest.

Viktor shifted a little, belying his discomfort at being asked that. "I... uh.." he struggled to respond, unsure of what answer his leader was looking for. The line of questioning itself had come as a surprise, and he wondered if he was being tested. He had joined the cause and believed in it more because he believed in its leader than he believed in the actual cause itself. To him, as long as his boss was in charge he would trust him to do what was right.

Sensing his uncertainty, the man in the suit gave a small smile. "It's okay, Viktor. I know you are loyal, this is not a test. But please, indulge me... you may answer freely."

Nodding, Viktor finally gave him a proper answer. "I believe in the cause, sir, because I believe in you."

"I guess I should say that's a good answer." A light chuckle and a smile followed that statement from the man in the suit. "Now, do you know why _I_ believe in our cause?"

Viktor shook his head, failing to see where this was going.

"I believe in our cause, Viktor, because I see the future that mankind is running towards and it is a dark one. Rampant corruption and struggles for power plague our governments. Our people are oppressed and afraid, many struggling to live in a world that has lost its way. The planet that we live on is beginning to fail as we consume more than it can sustain. In short, this path that humanity now walks on... it leads to our destruction, Viktor.

But we have the opportunity to change that. _I_ have the opportunity to bring about a better world. A chance to wipe the slate clean and start over." He paused, drinking in the rest of the scotch and setting the empty glass back on the side table. "While the coming chapter in humanity's history will be dark as the world we know burns to the ground, once the world is cleansed and reborn our Phoenix Corps will lead humanity to the righteous path. A path towards a better future."

He added with conviction, "I believe in our cause, Viktor, because in order for the glorious phoenix to rise anew, it must first burn to ashes. To build a better world, the old one must be cleared away."

Viktor was swept up in his words, as he usually was, and gave a firm nod to indicate that he understood, and that he would help him accomplish his vision.

A broad smile, baring perfect white teeth, stretched across the leader's face. "Tell them to begin, Viktor. It is time to light the fire that will cleanse this world."

-**xxxVxxx**-

_One week later..._

Two files were thrown on the table, the folders slapping onto the smooth metal. Other than the area immediately around the table, the rest of the room was dimly lit.

"His name is Cato Fenix, a British billionaire who built his fortune on pharmaceuticals and agriculture, though mostly pharma. Our spy within the Phoenix Corps says that he is the true leader of the terrorist group, though of course there is very little actual evidence that points to that, particularly since the official leader on paper is an eastern European named Viktor," explained the briefing officer, a petite young brunette woman.

Standing next to her and opposite each other around the table were two men, the older of the two in a suit and tie while the younger was in a loose-fitting dark gray shirt, black pants, and black combat boots. He had a gruffness and confidence about him that signaled this was a man who had seen much of the roughness of the world and survived.

"Do we have pictures?" asked the young man who looked to be in his late twenties, dark brown hair and a hint of a stubble on his face. Amber eyes looked out at the world with an intensity that made the woman subconsciously squirm.

"No one really sees much of either of them, although the lieutenants of each cell report to Viktor on occasion," she continued, "The reason we're briefing you on this is because there's been _a lot_ of activity lately and they seem to be gearing up for a major operation. We've been working hard on this, utilizing every asset we have, and we barely know anything. Which is why this has become a top priority case, because if something big is coming and we don't know what..." she trailed off before resuming again.

"Only a few hours ago, we received the best information we've gotten from our efforts to date. Your objective on this mission is to infiltrate one of their cells and retrieve a special package that's being kept there. It is apparently of vital importance to their upcoming operation. We don't exactly know what it is or what it even does, but if we can take it from them that will surely put a big wrench in their plans while also giving us an opportunity to figure out what they are up to."

The other man, a graying wrinkly figure with a thick grayish-white mustache, spoke in a serious tone, "This is our biggest break yet, Joel. Our spy claims that the upcoming operation is happening on a global scale, but he doesn't know what it is yet. You _must_ retrieve the package and deliver it to us intact so we can figure out what they're up to. If you can find any additional information from that cell, go ahead and take that too, but that is secondary to your main objective of securing the package. Is that clear?"

Joel nodded, scratching the stubble on his chin. "I understand, sir. Package is primary, all else secondary."

The briefing officer added, "You'll be dropped off by chopper ten miles from the target to avoid detection. There'll be a ground vehicle at the LZ. Extraction will be at the same spot. We don't have much intel on security, but expect it to be heavily guarded considering how valuable the package seems to be. We'll have fireteams at the ready in case things get too hot, but try and keep a low profile for as long as possible. We'd rather not give them a heads up that we're onto them."

"Got it."

"You're one of the best operatives we've had in years, Joel. But still, don't fuck this up," said the older gentleman, giving him a stern look. "We've only got one shot at this."

Joel half-glared back at him, a little offended that there was even a shred of doubt in his superior's mind about his abilities. "I'll get it done, chief. Like I always do."

"Very well. Your flight to London leaves in an hour. Good luck, Joel," said the older gentleman dismissively.

Getting the hint, Joel left the briefing room deep in the bowels of the CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia and made his way to the surface. Getting into the car that would take him to the CIA private airfield, he took out his cellphone. He had a few calls to make before he left.

-**xxxVxxx**-

Her dad had woken her up a little after sunrise and told her to pack for a short stay at her uncle Tommy's place, much to her confusion and surprise. She asked him what the occasion was but he didn't answer and he didn't seem to be in a talkative mood all the way to the airport. Once there he checked her in for her flight and handed her over to the airline representative who would take care of her since she was an unaccompanied minor. He quickly left after that, promising to call when he could.

Sarah knew that her dad worked for some government contractor or something or other, but beyond that she didn't know what he actually did on the job.

She imagined him as some kind of super spy, especially since he did travel a lot, but whenever she asked him he would always reply that he was only a desk worker. She didn't believe him, but neither did she press him for an honest answer. He was on trips far too often for a desk worker, and he more often than not came back from those trips with all manner of bruises, cuts, and scrapes. Furthermore, he was a government contractor desk worker who happened to make a decent amount of money, enough to buy them a beautiful house in a nice neighborhood in the suburbs of Washington D.C. It was definitely an upgrade from the house they had in Texas, although she missed the countryside and found the suburban life to be strange and different.

The airport wasn't too crowded so early in the morning and there were a handful of people around waiting at her gate. Sarah was sitting close to the gate half-asleep when she received the call from her dad.

"Daddy?"

"Hey Sarah. You at the gate yet?" asked the voice of her father through the phone.

"Yeah, I'm here," she said, yawning, "Kinda hungry."

"I gave you spending money, so go buy yourself some breakfast. You have some time to eat before your flight."

"Yeah, yeah, dad, I know. I'm twelve. I can take care of myself," she replied.

Her father snorted, "Ok. That's why you're traveling with a flight attendant helping you because you're an unaccompanied minor, right?"

"Hey! It's not my fault they have that policy. And I'm pretty sure that's a law too." She tucked her legs up against her chest, heels resting on the edge of the seat. "Are you going to tell me what this whole deal is?" Impromptu trips rarely happened like this, because even though he traveled a lot there was usually advanced warning and he could arrange a babysitter or for her to stay at her uncle's in Texas.

"Just a last-minute business trip, honey. I should be back in a few days, and when I do I'll go straight to meet you at uncle Tommy's."

"Where are you going then?"

There was a pause and then, "Europe," came the unspecific reply. He clearly did not want her to know exactly where, not that it bothered her. She was used to him keeping secrets about his work like that. All the more reason she thought he must be some kind of spy.

"Sounds fancy."

He laughed. "Yeah, they've got me in first class."

"I wish I was in first class," she mumbled, a little jealous.

"Maybe next time," said her father with a hint of amusement.

She then quietly put a hand to her face, shaking her head for being so stupid. "Oh gosh! I almost forgot! Happy birthday!" In the sudden and groggy rush of the morning, she had forgotten that it was her father's birthday. The birthday card that she had made for him was still on her dresser too.

"Thank you. I'd forgotten it was my birthday," he said truthfully. "Anyway, I gotta go kiddo. You behave yourself, okay? Say hi to uncle Tommy for me."

"Okay, dad. Have a safe trip!"

"You too. Love you, baby girl," he said and then hung up.

Rubbing her eyes and yawning once again, she stood up and gathered her backpack and her gym bag full of clothes. Stomach growling, she set off to get some breakfast at one of the airport eateries.

-**xxxVxxx**-

"Thanks again for doing this, Tommy, and sorry for the short notice," Joel said on the phone as his vehicle rolled into the private airstrip, passing through the heavily guarded gate. One of the M4 carbine-wielding guards saluted as they drove on.

"Anytime, big brother. And don't worry about it, you and Sarah are always welcome to drop by. You know that."

"Right. By the way, I'd prefer it if you kept her away from your construction sites... and power tools," said the older brother. Tommy had a new contracting and construction business, although it was a small operation, so far he was pretty busy having secured several projects.

A short laugh sounded over the phone. "Don't worry about it. You know I'll take good care of my niece. Besides, she's tougher than she looks. It would be nice to have a little helper around."

"Tommy..." growled Joel.

"I'm just messin' with ya, big brother."

Joel responded as the black sedan he was riding in entered the hangar of the private jet that he would be taking to London, "Okay then. I'm getting on my flight already. Send me a text when you've picked her up, okay? My number should still work even though I'm overseas. I got that roamin' thing."

"Got it. You have a safe flight now, ya hear?" said his brother and they ended the call.

He opened the door, got out of the car, and walked the twenty or so feet to the plane, getting on board. He nodded in greeting to the handful of other agents on board before sitting down and securing his seat belt. He then closed his eyes to get some sleep as he felt the plane lurch backwards, getting ready to taxi for takeoff.

Five hours later and he was woken up by the shuddering of the plane from touching down and the roar of the engines as they reversed themselves to help slow the forward movement of the plane. After a brief taxi, the plane came to a rest inside another nondescript hangar on a private airfield owned by the Agency, not too far from London.

Checking his phone, Joel noted that Tommy had texted him and he opened the short message.

_Got Sarah._

Stepping off the plane last after the other agents who had flown along, there was one person there waiting for him.

"Good evening, agent Graves. Welcome to London," greeted a uniformed agent at the bottom of the plane's steps, his British accent crisp. He was young, maybe a few years out of college, and his light blue eyes were full of excitement and interest as they stared at him.

Joel grunted, stretching to relieve the stiffness from sitting down for too long. "Where's my gear?" he said loudly over the whine of the engines. Thankfully, they began to shut down and the noise level decreased considerably.

"If you'll follow me, please." The agent led him out a side door and in between a few other hangars before going into a brick building. A few more hallways and one staircase up later, and he was brought to a room full of equipment and weapons. "You are to have whatever you think you need. I'll be right outside. Let me know when you're ready and I'll take you to your transport."

With that said, Joel was left alone in what could only be described as a small armory. He went around once to see what was available and was happy with the selections, though he would of course not be able to bring all of them. His gaze drifted over to some of the heavy-duty equipment and he wished he could bring some along, but it was too bulky and too noisy for a mostly stealth operation.

He always had his concealed carry King Cobra .357 revolver with him hanging on his side off of a shoulder holster. For close quarters he had a combat knife hidden horizontally across his lower back that he could unsheathe easily by simply reaching back behind him to grab the handle.

He grabbed a second pistol holster that he attached on his right hip, taking a 9mm pistol with a silencer and several magazines for it. In case he needed it, he strapped a smaller secondary knife to his lower right calf.

Spotting a Kevlar vest he donned that, making sure it was snug against his body; it didn't hurt to bring a little armor along. Finally, he grabbed a special forces favorite: the MP-5 Heckler and Koch sub-machine gun equipped with a silencer. Compact and with decent ammo capacity, it fired 9mm rounds accurately and at a healthy rate. For extra firepower if shit hit the fan, he slung a pump-action 12 gauge across his back, loading it up with the maximum six shells and taking along an extra twelve, and he took few grenades of the explosive and smoke variety.

Satisfied, he looked around one more time before stepping out into the hallway.

"I'm all set," he told the agent who was waiting for him outside.

"Follow me then, sir."

The pitch black helicopter started up as soon as the pilots saw them approaching, the engine whining to life as the massive rotor blades rotated faster with each passing second. Two men decked out in combat gear and assault rifles stood by the open door as the agent took him to them.

"Agent Graves, these are corporals Rooney and Hunter. They'll be accompanying you to the target," informed the agent, causing Joel to frown.

"I work best solo," he said matter-of-factly, not hiding his annoyance. They would only slow him down, he thought.

"Agency orders, sir," the agent shrugged.

Sighing, Joel nodded in understanding before looking to the two men who were going with him. He hoped they would be competent enough to not get in his way while also being helpful.

"Alright, let's move out," he said loud enough for them to hear and they both nodded, letting him get on first before following. Joel waved in thanks to the agent who gave him a thumbs up before quickly moving away to a safer distance.

Leaning forward towards the cockpit, Joel tapped the pilot's right shoulder to indicate that they were ready to go. A moment later and the helicopter was off the ground and flying low into the night.

-**xxxVxxx**-

"Listen! Did you hear that?" hissed one of the men on patrol along the long fence that encircled the warehouses by a wide river.

The second man listened but heard nothing so he said with annoyance, "You're hearing things. Shut up and let's get this patrol over with so we can get some dinner. I'm starving."

Both of them held AK-47's loosely in their hands, though the one that had heard something tightened his grip and raised his gun a little, peering out into the darkness beyond the fence. They continued on for a little while before reaching the far corner of the high fence, barbed war running along the entire length of the top of it. They didn't get a chance to turn around and continue their patrol as two figures grabbed them from behind, slashing their throats quickly and leaving them on the ground to die.

Joel nodded to the other man who had helped him out. He thought his name was Hunter. They were politely quiet and thankfully skilled, respecting his lead and obeying his orders with minimal discussion. And even then it was only to clarify.

Rooney had a sniper rifle and was off somewhere finding a suitable perch from where he could cover them. Sure enough, a whisper came from their earpiece radios. "In position. I see you."

Hunter raised a hand and gave a thumbs up to the hidden Rooney.

Motioning forward, Joel and Hunter crept along the shadows, hiding behind crates, dumpsters, and sticking close to the walls of the nearest warehouse. Intel had no idea which of the three warehouses the package was in, but he imagined that it would be easy enough to tell which one once they searched through all of them.

Another man on patrol walked close by to where they were hiding, humming softly to himself as he rested a double-barrel shotgun over his shoulder. He went down quickly from Hunter's knife and was dragged behind some crates. Joel moved towards a back corner of the warehouse where there was an open window that they could climb through into the warehouse office.

Peering over the window sill, Joel noted that the office was empty and he signaled Hunter that it was all clear before quietly jumping through it, his boots landing with a slight thud on the hard cement floor. He still had his knife out, preferring to use as many silent take downs as he could before resorting to firing his guns. Even though they had silencers, they were still loud enough to attract attention when fired, particularly in an enclosed space like this where the sound would undoubtedly echo.

As they reached the door to the office, it suddenly opened and Joel quickly grabbed the figure who was walking through, throwing him to the ground as the man let out a surprised yelp and then a grunt of pain as his back and head hit the cement floor. The man looked up at him with fearful eyes as the knife was pressed against his throat.

"You scream, and I cut your throat," Joel growled and the man nodded slowly, eyes wide.

Hunter quickly shut the door and stayed off to the side, assault rifle at the ready and pointed at the door.

"Where's the package?" asked Joel.

"W-what package?"

Joel pressed the knife harder against the man's throat, drawing blood and making his eyes go even wider, the man taking in a sharp intake of breath as the cut began to sting.

"I d-don't know what package y-your talking about," he stammered fearfully, and Joel believed him.

"There's something very valuable to your coming operation that you're guarding here. I want to know what it is and where it is."

A look of recognition crossed into the man's eyes and he nodded slowly. "I think... I-I don't actually k-know what it is, but w-warehouse three had the g-guard doubled last night. This p-package must be there!"

"Which one is warehouse three?" he asked, pressed the knife harder still.

The man began to shake, taking quick and shallow breaths. "It's the last one at the end. The farthest one! Please, that's all I know! Please don't kill me."

Joel slashed his throat, blood spewing out immediately as the man began to choke and gargle on his own blood. There was a time when he would have let the man live, but that was before the last time he did so it bit him in the ass as the man reported in and caused a shit storm to erupt during his mission. He had made it out, but several Agency operatives went down in the process. He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

Hunter seemed to give him a strange look but the man remained silent.

Joel whispered into their comm radio, "Package is in the farthest warehouse. Make sure your vantage lets you cover us that far."

"Copy that. Moving now," replied Rooney after a few seconds.

"Alright Hunter, let's go get that package." He jumped back out of the window, boots crunching asphalt as he moved to the edge of the corner and snuck a peek. Another two man patrol was heading this way and he communicated as much to Hunter via hand signals.

They walked by at a relaxed pace without noticing the two figures crouched low against the warehouse, who immediately crept up behind them and took them out as well. While the bodycount was rising and there was more chances of them being discovered if someone happened to see the bodies, the way Joel saw it was that taking them out would also lessen the number of enemies they'd have to fight should the alarm be raised.

Staying low to the ground in the shadow of the second warehouse, Joel observed the third warehouse. It was a little farther from the first two, with a wide open space in between it and the second warehouse. That made it difficult to approach without being spotted since that was a lot of ground to cover. Two soldiers stood on a catwalk that hugged around the top edge of the third warehouse, rifles in their hands.

Four more guarded the giant warehouse door with two more by the smaller side door. They all had sub-machine guns and it looked like they weren't moving for a while.

Joel cursed as there was no other way to sneak through without being seen, which meant stealth was out of the window now. They would have to go in, guns blazing, and hopefully retrieve the package before reinforcements came. If the package was important enough, that at least meant they wouldn't use any explosives or heavy weapons so as not to damage it, and that gave Joel a little comfort.

He turned to Hunter and whispered, "We're going in hot from here on out. Make your shots count, we'll be wide open running across."

Hunter nodded affirmatively, "I've got your back, sir."

"Rooney. You have eyes on the last warehouse?" he asked through the radio. Hopefully the sniper could make getting into the warehouse easier.

The response was immediate. "Sir, I've only got eyes on the rooftop guys and one of the men on the ground by the warehouse. Can't get a much better vantage point than this."

"Good enough for me. On my mark, take out the rooftop guards." He pointed to the two guards by the side door. "Hunter, you take those guys out first. I'll engage the four by the big door. Once they're down, we sprint like hell towards the side door and get inside. I'd imagine there'll be reinforcements coming towards the gunfire and we don't want to get caught out in the open like this." Joel figured that at least inside they could make a better stand, should they have no route of escape.

"Understood, sir."

Hunter raised his assault rifle, crouching tensely as Joel turned back and eyed the four guards standing in a circle in front of the big garage door. He figured he'd be able to take them all out with one clip, but he had to make sure his shots were accurate and from this distance it would be a challenge. Getting closer might be the only way to truly finish them off, but he could at least injure them from here.

"Mark," he spoke into the radio.

A single shot rang out, hitting one of the rooftop guards square in the chest and throwing him back into the railing of the catwalk. The second guard gaped in utter surprise, along with the guards down below who were staring up at the catwalk. By the time the second shot rang out and took a chunk off the second rooftop guard's head, Joel inhaled a deep breath and, holding it, aimed down the sights of the MP-5 towards the group of four men who were still looking up at the catwalk with guns raised, then pressed his finger on the trigger just as Hunter opened fire beside him on his own targets.

-**xxxVxxx**-

"Sir, it's starting," Viktor said while knocking on the door to the master bedroom. loud enough to be heard through it.

"Give me a moment," replied the muffled voice of Cato Fenix from behind the heavy wooden door.

Viktor leaned against the wall beside the door and waited.

A few minutes later and the door opened, Cato stepping out wearing another one of his expensive suits. He flashed a smile at Viktor, eyes alight with excitement and anticipation. "Lead the way."

They traveled through the interior of the compound, passing by several men outfitted in black uniforms and carrying assault rifles, and entered into a large room with a few computer terminals and several couches and chairs placed in front of a wall full of widescreen TV's, each one tuned to a different news channel from around the world. A few of them were covering an outbreak of some mysterious illness that had already afflicted several dozens of thousands people, with that number climbing every minute.

Some men who were in the room stood up as they saw their leaders enter, and a wave from Cato made them return to their seats, the man's eyes fixated on the screens. Cato took a seat in the middle one of three couches, Viktor preferring to stand behind him and clasping his hands together behind his back as he stood in parade rest.

"Where are the first reports coming from?" he asked the room, though in truth nobody but Viktor dared to speak to him unless directly spoken to, so Viktor was the one who responded.

"Brazil, Mexico, India, and China were the first to report a growing mysterious disease problem. There's already mounting unrest in those areas as the military forces of those countries are being mobilized. Russia and much of northern Africa are just beginning to report on it now. It's only a matter of time before the U.S. and every other country is afflicted, sir."

Cato leaned back and relaxed, admiring the screens with what looked to be joy. "Well, it appears to be time then. Send out the lock down order and commence our own."

Viktor moved around to one of the men manning a computer station and repeated the order, the man's fingers flying across the keyboard as he sent the message out to the rest of their global organization. Directing one of the other men to start the compound lock down, the sounds of heavy machinery and gears whining and grinding rumbled through the structure.

"And get some wine while you're at it. Let us celebrate while we watch this tainted world burn."

* * *

**Author's notes: **GAME OF THE YEAR 2013? I love this game. Hands down one of my all-time favorites. Very gripping, emotional, and thought-provoking. I hope to do it some justice here with a hopefully interesting AU story that is influenced by some of what happens in the game.


	2. Extraction

**In the Darkness**

_Extraction_

* * *

Tommy Graves let out an impressed whistle as he watched his niece kick another soccer ball into the open net; this time she managed to get it to the upper left corner, the ball curving slightly in the air as it flew towards the goal. The young girl had some talent that was for sure, and he was happy that she enjoyed the sport enough to ask him if she could go and practice at a nearby park.

From what his older brother Joel had told him, she had taken to the sport real well ever since moving to the northern Virginia suburbs of Washington D.C. He and Joel weren't any good at soccer, having no interest in it in their younger years and playing football instead, which was king in Texas, while either baseball or basketball could be argued as the second-most-popular sport. Now that his niece played the game, he and his brother of course finally began to show their own interest in it. He hoped to see her play an actual game one of these days when he could find the time to travel up and visit them in Virginia for once.

He envied his brother's ability to travel so freely. Admittedly, most of the travel Joel did was business-related and he spent a lot more time than he would like away from his little girl, but he made a very good living and at least he got to travel all over the world. When he had the time, Joel often traveled down with Sarah to see him in Texas, and those visits were always welcome to Tommy since they were the only family he had left.

Tommy wished he could travel as much as his brother. Having worked for a construction company for some time, he had only recently started his own venture into the thankfully once-again-growing construction and contracting business in the area. It helped that there weren't a lot of options available to begin with, and since he was a local boy he received a lot more trust from the people in the area than his competitors. Not to mention the fact that he also offered cheaper prices to boot.

Business was definitely doing very well these days, but that meant he was extremely busy and he barely had enough time to eat and sleep while trying to work on all the projects he had taken on. For the first time in a while he had taken a day off, trusting his work crew to manage without him for once since he wanted to spend time with his niece. And while he loved the fact that he could relax and take it easy for a day, he loved it even more because he was able to spend some quality time with his favorite, and only, niece.

The short-haired blonde twelve-year old ran up to him as he was sitting on the bleachers, soccer ball tucked under her arm, sweating a little from kicking the ball around for the last hour or so and gray eyes alight with youthful energy.

"Uncle Tommy! Did you see that last goal? Did you see it? Man, I looked like Messi out there. I sure as heck felt like him."

"Yeah, you did look pretty messy there. Sloppy footwork and all…" he joked, eliciting an immediate mock glare.

"Ha… ha… _very_ funny," said Sarah as she tossed the ball she was holding at her uncle, the ball glancing off the side of his head as he was too close to her and too slow to react to completely avoid the ball.

"Ow! That was uncalled for. Gosh, Sarah, when did you get so violent?" he protested with a grin as he rubbed the side of his head.

Sarah went to retrieve the ball. "That's what you get for dissing my mad soccer skills."

Tommy chuckled and then checked his watch. "Well, does the soccer superstar want to grab some early dinner? I'm sure the ego is full but I bet that stomach is a grumblin'," he said as he eyed her with amusement.

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "Yeah, I'm kinda hungry. Does dinner come with a free massage? I'm feelin' a little sore too, ya know."

Tommy snorted as he got to his feet. "You wish. But since you're a soccer superstar, maybe you can pay for lunch this time around."

"Ha! No way, Jose! Besides, I'm broke anyway..." she trailed off and frowned slightly as she thought of something that seemed to trouble her.

Tommy raised an eyebrow at that, but decided not to ask her about it. "Well, it was worth a shot. Come on now, let's get outta this heat here and find a place to eat."

They got into Tommy's pickup truck and drove to a nearby diner called _Sunshine Diner_. It was like any regular old diner around those parts, a long bar area behind which you could see into the kitchen, bar stools planted directly into the tiled floors that matched the tiles on the walls, and lots of chrome, glass and plastic everywhere.

A juke box stood off to one side, playing mostly country music a decade or more old that the patrons and employees didn't mind in the slightest.

It being early in the evening, there weren't too many people there, not that it got too crowded to begin with but when they entered there was only one other patron who sat at the far end of the bar eating by himself.

Tommy noted that it was his next-door neighbor Jimmy; but the man looked to be in his own world, with a dark air around him, and he decided to steer clear and give the man some space for now.

Sarah slid into a booth first, by one of the large windows, and Tommy slid in across from her.

A waitress who looked to be well over fifty with wrinkles, sagging skin, and too much makeup, walked up to them and greeted them with a smile, "Hey there, Tommy. Nice to see you again, Sarah, it's been a while. Having an early dinner are we?"

"Hey Janice," Tommy greeted back. "I'll have the usual."

Janice nodded before turning to Sarah. "And you dear?"

"I'll have some steak and eggs with a side of hash browns, please!" she said, justifying her choice by adding, "I'm really hungry."

"I'm sure you are," Janice said with a wink before walking around the bar and telling the cook their orders.

When the waitress was out of earshot, Sarah looked critically at her uncle and said, "Hey, uncle Tommy?"

"Yeah, what is it honey?"

"Well, I was wonderin'… and I've been wonderin' for a while now…" Sarah hesitated.

"Alright, what is it?" he asked while looking at her with concern because of the way she was acting. All manner of situations popped up in his head and some of them he felt would be better addressed by his brother, but thankfully none of those things were what she wanted to talk about.

"Do you know what daddy actually does for a living?"

Tommy sat back, unsure of what to say. He truthfully did not know what his brother actually did beyond what his brother had told them, and he definitely did not buy his desk worker contractor story. The reason he did not press his brother further was because he respected him enough to let him have his secrets, since he often was honest and straightforward. If Joel did not want to share what he truly did for a living then there was good reason for it.

He shook his head slowly, looking Sarah straight in the eyes. "Honestly, Sarah, I know about as much as you... That is, he works for a government contractor. And… well, I trust that whatever he's doing, he's doing it for all the right reasons."

-**xxxVxxx**-

"Run!" yelled Joel as he heard the wailing of an alarm and the distant frantic cries of some of the Phoenix Corps soldiers. His feet pounded against the hard concrete, making his way across the open expanse between warehouses two and three towards the side door to the third and final warehouse without a single glance over his shoulder to see whether or not Hunter was following after him.

Opening the door quickly, submachine gun out and scanning the interior hallway that it opened into, he moved inside and heard the door slam shut as Hunter came in right after him.

"Alright. Eyes open, stay alert. Watch our six," he told his teammate as he went further into the warehouse.

Hunter acknowledged with a quick "Yes sir!" as they made their way carefully through the place.

Rounding one corner, they came face-to-face with a group of three enemy soldiers who were just as surprised to see them. Thankfully, Joel reacted quick enough and since his gun was already up he took down two of the three before they could even react, with the third and farthest one able to hide behind the next corner before he could get him.

He growled towards Hunter, who was keeping an eye out behind them, and pushed his teammate back behind the corner just as bullets pinged in return fire around them.

"We don't have fucking time for this," he whispered harshly to himself as he reached for a flashbang grenade and flicked the pin off with his thumb, following that up with a smooth and strong toss down the hallway in a brief moment of peace between gunshots.

Counting in his head, he burst out from behind cover immediately after the grenade went off with a boom, eliciting a cry of pain and shock from his intended target. Moving up the hallway quickly and rounding the next corner, he put a few bullets into the downed opponent without so much as a second glance as he kept moving forward, discarding his empty magazine and slamming in a new one as smoothly and calmly as if he were simply undergoing a practice drill.

The next hallway led into a large open space that was mostly empty save for two large objects, one of which caught Joel's attention more than the other.

The first item, and the closest to the large hangar door that led outside, was a brand new Anti-Personnel Carrier, a behemoth of an armored vehicle that he knew would come in handy really soon. That is, if they had the keys to it.

"Hunter, see if you can find the keys to that APC. That could be our ticket out of this place," he said immediately as his eyes looked over to the second large item in the warehouse that intrigued him the most.

It was a ten-foot high, eight-foot wide, and fifteen-foot long container that looked like it had been brought in via a truck, although that truck in question was nowhere to be found as far as he could see. What intrigued him about this container was that it had small windows made of what looked to be reinforced glass, and there were holes in certain areas around the container – small ones, and plenty in number.

Whatever was stored inside, it needed light and it needed air, and he was willing to bet a year's salary that the package was in there. The only question now was what that package really was.

Scanning the open area a second time, surprised but thankful at the lack of guards inside the warehouse, he approached the container cautiously. A simple latch mechanism was all that kept the doors closed and he carefully unlatched it, gripping one of the handles of one of the big doors, and tugged mightily against it with his right hand. His left hand, holding the MP-5 loosely and upright in case he needed to fire quickly, was tensed at his side.

With a heavy groan, the metal door shuddered open outwards and he stepped back to allow it to swing open further. Taking his gun steadily in both hands, he stepped inside and his eyes instantly widened as he looked at what lay inside the container.

There was some furniture in the container: a simple metal twin bed with a thin mattress and dirty sheets, a weathered and beat up little couch, a five-foot tall wooden bookcase filled with books of varying sizes, and a small wooden nightstand next to the bed that had a lamp resting on its surface and a backpack leaning against it on the floor.

Sitting at the far end of the container, legs curled up against her, was a young girl who looked to be about his daughter's age. She had red hair tied back with a ponytail, from what he could see, and bangs that were swept off to the right side of her face; parts of her hair that hung down on either side of her head framed her pale face. She was wearing a dirty and worn pair of dark blue jeans and an equally worn faded red t-shirt over what looked to be a black long-sleeve shirt.

She looked dirty and disheveled as if she had not seen a bathroom or a washing machine for quite some time. In fact, it actually smelled pretty bad inside the container, suggesting that she had indeed been left there to live in her own filth for at least several days.

What really unsettled him was the look that she gave him as he entered the container. A look of pure hatred and unbridled anger that gave him pause for a brief moment as the full realization of what lay before him finally hit him.

This little girl was the package.

-**xxxVxxx**-

Sarah was able to finish half her food before she was too full to eat any more so she asked Janice if she could have it boxed up to take home with her. Glancing at her uncle, she wondered if he was really telling her the truth that he did not know about what her father really did for work.

She tried to push it out of her mind. "Do you think dad will let me have a puppy?" she asked randomly.

Her uncle smiled at the question, glad that the topic had changed and amused by the question itself. "Well, I reckon he wouldn't be too opposed to it."

Sarah looked thoughtfully at him. "Didn't you guys have a dog when you were growing up?"

Tommy nodded wistfully, thinking back to his younger days, "Yeah, you're right. We had a golden retriever and her name was Pancake." He let out a short laugh as he said the name aloud. It was a fitting name given how the dog looked.

Sarah grinned. "Well that's a cute name. Was it your idea or dad's?"

"Oh, no, no. It was definitely all your dad's idea."

She giggled, her grin widening. "Did you like having a golden retriever?"

Tommy thought for a moment, dipping his head from side-to-side, "Yeah… Pancake was a lot of fun. It wasn't easy taking care of a dog though, I'll tell you that much. I'm sure your dad will want to make sure you can handle taking care of one before getting it, since you're going to be spending the most time with it. You think you're ready for a dog?"

Sarah nodded immediately and held his gaze as she said with confidence, "I sure as hell am!"

Tommy laughed lightly, amused by her enthusiasm and sudden change of mood. "You say that now…"

"So you really think he'll let me get one?" she asked, apparently not hearing him or not bothering to answer.

Her uncle raised his hands and shrugged. "Don't quote me on it, alright? But… I have a feeling he might. You think of what kind of dog you'd like to have?"

"I dunno yet," Sarah said, shrugging, "But I'll definitely think about it some more now."

The sound of glass and porcelain breaking interrupted their conversation, causing both of them to turn in surprise at the source of the noise.

"Oh dear!" cried Janice from behind the counter, mouth agape as she held a hand to it, looking at the cause of the commotion.

Jimmy was breathing heavily and down on one knee, one hand on the ground and another gripping hard onto a nearby stool, clearly having fallen as he tried to stand. Water and food were splattered all around him in between the broken pieces of his plate and drinking glass.

"Jimmy!" Tommy said with alarm as he got out of the booth and went to help his neighbor.

The man struggled to get up and Tommy grabbed one of his arms and helped him balance himself. His skin was damp with sweat and his breathing was ragged. Bloodshot eyes looked out wearily at him.

"You don't look so good, Jimmy…" Tommy began to say.

Jimmy shook his head, managing to say weakly, "I'll… I'll be fine… just need some rest, really…"

"Well, let me take you to the hospital just in ca-"

"No! Please… just… just help me home…"

Tommy looked to Janice and the old woman simply shrugged, basically saying that it was his call.

"Are you sure? The hospital ain't too far from here, Jimmy," he asked again.

Jimmy slowly nodded. "Home…" he said again.

"Janice, could you at least get him another glass of water first?" he looked to the waitress, who nodded and quickly filled one up. She handed it to Tommy who then practically forced his neighbor to drink it all up, the man coughing in between big gulps.

Janice watched with a worried expression and finally said, "Maybe you _should _take him to the hospital. I've never seen Jimmy look this bad before."

Sarah had walked up at that point and looked on with growing concern. "What are you going to do?"

Tommy sighed as he looked at his friend who was clearly delirious and said, "We'll take him back to his house and I'll keep checkin' in on him through the night. If he gets any worse, I'll take him to the hospital."

"I think we should take him to the hospital now…" Sarah said as she noted how badly Jimmy looked.

"The man said he'd be fine and that he wants to be taken home. Like I said, if he gets any worse I'll definitely take him to the hospital immediately."

"Okay." Sarah was unconvinced but accepted her uncle's decision.

Janice was already cleaning up the mess, though clearly still worried for the young man. "Well, once he gets better you tell him he owes us for this mess, okay hun?"

-**xxxVxxx**-

"Enemies are surrounding the warehouse, sir!" yelled a voice in his earpiece, shaking Joel out of his surprised and alarmed thoughts.

Thinking quickly as he shook his head to clear his mind, he spoke back into the radio, "Copy that, Rooney. Buy us some time! I'll try and get those fireteams to come in and provide some extraction cover."

Reaching a hand up he pressed a secondary button on the earpiece communications device that allowed him to broadcast on a different channel – the one that would patch him through to the local Agency field office.

"This is Agent Graves requesting immediate fire support for extraction. I repeat, requesting immediate fire support for extraction. We have one man wounded. Package is secured but encountering heavy resistance," he informed the field office through the comm link.

There was nothing at first, and then a reply came, one that was not what he had been expecting. "Agent Graves this is London HQ. Please be advised, those assets have been re-purposed and are no longer available to you. Can you still manage extraction?"

"Jesus!" he yelled angrily as he slammed his palm into the steering wheel, the move stinging his hand. He replied back, "What the hell do you mean those assets have been re-purposed? Don't you know how important this mission is damnit?"

Again there was a delay before a reply. "We're sorry, Agent Graves, but the situation out here has deteriorated dramatically and all Agency assets are being redeployed. You're on your own."

"What about the damn helicopter?" he asked, not surprised if they pulled that one too.

This time the reply came faster. "We're sorry-"

Not wanting to hear anymore, he yanked the earpiece out and nearly threw it away before stopping himself and simply squeezing it tightly in his hand in anger before replacing it in his ear. He still needed it to communicate with his team at least, switching the channel back.

"Hunter, did you find those keys?" he asked through the radio.

Almost as if on cue gunfire suddenly erupted from somewhere inside the warehouse, causing Joel to curse under his breath and hide behind the other container door that was still shut in place.

"Hunter?" he called fiercely into the radio. "Hunter are you there?"

There was a long moment of silence and then a reply. "I'm here, sir… got the… got the keys from the main warehouse office… but… I got hit… one of them got the… got the jump on me." The admission sounded like it was through gritted teeth and Joel couldn't tell if it was all because of the pain he was feeling or because he was also somewhat embarrassed about getting surprised.

"God fucking damn it," he said aloud before speaking back into the radio, "Are you able to get back out here? I'm securing the package right now." Things were swiftly going from bad to worse, and he felt that if they stayed there any longer they might not get out of there alive at all.

Another pause. "I'll make it… to the APC, sir." Hunter's voice was strained and in obvious pain, but there was a conviction in it that Joel respected and trusted in.

He turned back towards the far end of the container, realizing that he might have scared her with all his yelling, and noted that the young girl had stood up and grabbed her backpack, still glaring at him but clutching herself in a manner that belied her unease and fear.

Walking towards her, he lowered his gun and raised his right hand open and out towards her to try and show her that he meant her no harm.

"Hey," he began but was abruptly cut off by the redhead.

"Who are you and what the _fuck _do you want with me?" she yelled defiantly, her adolescent voice harder than he anticipated it to be, not to mention her language. It sounded like she had been through far more than she should have for her age, and his heart sank at that at the same time that his anger stirred.

He stopped about halfway into the container in an attempt to calm her before he approached further, gun pointed to the ground and hanging loosely in his fingers.

"My name is Joel," he introduced himself calmly, hoping that his tone and demeanor would help to ease her fears.

"Okay, _Joel_," she said his name with skepticism, clearly not believing him, "What the fuck do you want with me? I already told you assholes to go fuck yourselves and to just kill me already."

Quelling his rising disgust at the implications of those words, he replied, "Look, kid. I'm not with them. Honestly. I'm here to help you."

"Help me? And how exactly are you going to _help_ me?" she asked bitterly, her glare unwaveringly pointed at him.

"I'm here to break you out," he stated simply, taking a few tentative steps forward. "You must've heard me talking on the radio. I'm part of the extraction team that's here to free you."

A look of surprise and, he was not sure but it seemed to him like even hope, passed through her young features before being covered again in a hard mask of anger. She let out a mirthless laugh. "Yeah, right. Break me out… And then when I play along you'll just take away my rations again and maybe kick me around for good measure too. Like I said before, go fuck yourselves and just go ahead and kill me already."

He let out a heavy sigh. They had precious little time before their escape window closed to near impossibility. He needed to collect her and get the hell out of there and deciding that discussing was a waste of that precious time, he stepped closer to her in an attempt to simply grab her and drag her out forcefully if he had to. She unfortunately had other plans as she leapt at him without warning once he got close enough.

"You fucker!" she cried angrily in the air as she landed on him, knocking Joel back a few steps from the collision. She began to come at him, flailing wildly, pounding her small fists into his hard Kevlar armor with little to no effect, though her kicks to his shin did hurt.

He dropped his submachine gun, the metal weapon clattering loudly to the floor of the steel container, and grabbed the young girl's arms in a vise grip, resulting in a yelp of pain and anger.

"Listen! Listen damn you!" he yelled, "I'm trying to help you! Stop fighting!" But she kept hitting him, yelling a few choice words back at him and kicking him again in the shin, a move that he winced at.

"Sorry kid," he said as he abruptly made a decision. Without much of a choice and running out of time and patience, he regretfully smacked her in the head hard enough to at least daze her.

Instead of simply being dazed however, she was knocked out from the blow and fell heavily to the ground. Looking at her prone figure for a second, he felt a pang of guilt for having done that to so young a person, and a girl to boot, but she had given him no other choice. Picking her up along with his fallen weapon, he gently carried her over his left shoulder and exited the container.

Hunter was clutching his side, leaning against the APC as his assault rifle hung from a strap that went around his neck and right shoulder. A small dark puddle of what Joel could only assume was blood was on the ground underneath him.

"Hunter?"

The man was breathing heavily, but managed to reply. "I'm… I'm good, sir. Just… a little winded… that's all." The words struggled to make it out of his throat, but Joel had to admire his strength.

"Alright. Let's get the hell out of here quick so we can get you patched up. Get in the APC," Joel said sternly, though he looked with concern over to his wounded teammate.

The man struggled to right himself before trudging around to the open back hatch of the armored vehicle. He held a hand out to Joel, who reached forward and grabbed the keys that dangled from his hand.

"It's getting hot out there, sir. I'm getting some return fire and some hostiles have managed to enter the warehouse already," his earpiece crackled to life right then.

"Copy that. We're coming out now!" he replied as he ran into the APC and placed the girl down gently into one of the seats. Joel quickly strapped her in, making sure she was secure before moving to close the APC back hatch.

"That… the package?" Hunter coughed as he took a seat in the middle of the vehicle, and even in his pained voice Joel could tell the man was troubled by the sight of her.

"Yeah. Buckle up now," he responded simply as he made his way to the front and squeezed through the tight space into the driver compartment.

He could hear shouting from outside the APC as several hostiles filtered into the large storage area. They had not yet put two-and-two together so they hadn't figured out that they were inside the APC. They would soon enough. Placing the key in the ignition, he fired the armored vehicle up and its engine roared loudly as the whole thing shook violently from the engine starting.

Gunshots pinged off of the thick armor almost immediately and the enemies' dismayed voices were drowned out by the APC's engine.

Getting himself acquainted with the controls that he could see in case there was anything different, Joel shook his head as he stared at the still-closed warehouse door and gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"Rooney," he said through the radio, "Meet us by the main road. I have an APC."

"An APC?" came the surprised reply, then a pause as if thinking of asking more questions, before the soldier finally responded with a "Roger that." Joel figured that he was sharp enough to save his questions for later, if he really wanted to know that is.

Looking ahead through the small forward porthole and noting how close the APC was to the big door, he decided to back up first to get enough speed to ram through it. Shifting the vehicle into reverse, he stepped on the gas pedal and heard a couple of satisfying thumps from what he hoped were some enemies who had been behind them.

Then the APC abruptly came to a halt as he hit something big accompanied by the loud crash of metal hitting metal. That was a far as he could go, so shifting gears again he dropped his right foot down hard on the gas pedal.

-**xxxVxxx**-

"Give me a status report, Viktor." Cato was still on the couch in the command center of the compound, eating some food and sipping on some champagne as he continued to watch the chaos unfolding all over the world through the multitude of television screens in front of him.

"The infection is spreading rapidly, sir, and everything seems to be going according to plan. Even better than projected estimates, actually," replied Viktor.

Cato smiled. "And the lockdown?"

Viktor cleared his throat before responding, "All facilities have completed lockdown procedures, sir… except for one. There, uh… the facility with the girl was attacked. And she was taken by an unknown enemy force."

Cato stopped mid-chew before swallowing hard and turning to look at Viktor with a critical eye. "I'm sorry, I thought I heard you say that the girl was taken… could you repeat that one more time?"

Viktor shifted on his feet. "Sir, we're trying to figure out who they are and where they've taken her."

"You damn well better be," Cato snapped and then he looked down for a moment in thought before speaking again in a more controlled voice, "How much progress did our research team have on crafting a cure?"

"Based on their last report they're very close, sir. They might be able to do it without needing any more of her tissue, which means we might not need her anymore after all."

Cato fixed a glare on his second-in-command and said, "I don't like uncertainty in this matter, Viktor. This cure is essential for us, for the plan. Find out where that girl went to. And talk to the research team directly and figure out where they are with their work and what their opinion is on the matter, then report back to me."

"Understood, sir," Viktor bowed his head and walked to the upper half of the command center, directing the men in the computer terminals again as he picked up a phone and made the call to the main research facility of the Phoenix Corps.

-**xxxVxxx**-

A jarringly violent jolt later and the APC crashed through the main warehouse door in a crescendo of breaking and broken steel, running over another enemy who unluckily for him was in the way of the speeding armored vehicle.

More gunshots pinged all around the armor, echoing inside loudly enough to be heard over the roaring of the mighty diesel engine that was being pushed to its limit in terms of acceleration.

In truth, Joel hadn't been sure if the APC would be able to accelerate fast enough to barrel through the big main door and he was more than happy with the result as he turned the steering wheel, tires screeching along the concrete and the APC tipping slightly as he moved to avoid crashing into warehouse two.

Setting his sights on the main gate of the compound, he floored the accelerator and ignored the continued gunfire that peppered the armored vehicle. As long as they didn't use any heavy weapons they would be away and clear.

A few hostiles crowded in front of the gate and opened fire with their machine guns, but their bullets were ineffective and they dove out of the way as the APC crashed through the gate with ease.

Once he was about a half mile away he slammed on the brakes, the heavy vehicle jerking forward as its momentum kept carrying the top half forward while the wheels locked up and slid on the asphalt, leaving dark burn marks.

"Rooney where are you?" he said into the radio as he clambered out of the driver's compartment and into the slightly wider passenger area, leaving the engine still running.

A short glance towards the young girl verified that she was still unconscious and strapped in as he made his way to his wounded teammate, who he found was also unconscious. Checking the soldier's pulse, he was thankful that the man's heart was still beating, albeit slowly. Hunter needed medical attention as soon as possible, and he only hoped they would be able to get him the help he needed in time.

"I see you. I'm about a hundred meters away, sir," Rooney's voice came over the radio, sounding out of breath.

Joel activated the back hatch and it fully opened to the sound of hydraulics working just as Rooney got to the APC, the sniper breathing heavily as he entered the vehicle thanks to his fast hike through the woods.

Rooney then noticed that Hunter was slumped forward in his seat, held up only by the safety harnesses strapped around and across his torso. He looked to Joel and asked, "What happened? Is he…?" He trailed off, not wanting to say it.

"He's alive," Joel responded with a grim tone that matched the expression of his eyes as he spoke, "But only barely."

Rooney was silent but moved swiftly and purposefully as he opened up a small pouch on his hip and tore open Hunter's uniform, beginning to administer some first aid and applying a bandage to the wound to help slow further bleeding.

Glancing out the open back hatch as he pressed the button that would retract the hatch and close the opening, Joel glimpsed some Humvees coming towards them from the compound.

"Shit. Rooney, take the wheel and get us to that LZ, and step on it," Joel ordered and the sniper quickly did as told, abandoning further first aid. Within a few seconds the APC was on the move again.

There was a machine gun mounted close to the front of the APC accessible via a hatch on the left side right behind the driver's compartment, and Joel made his way to it. Climbing up the small ladder, he twisted the handle of the hatch to unlock it and pushed it up and away. Warm summer air blew in strongly from the outside, pushing against him as he went up far enough to properly use the gun.

Settling himself into a comfortable position and grabbing the mounted .50 caliber machine gun that thankfully had a one-and-a-half-inch thick steel shield plating that would help to protect him from gunfire, Joel was grateful that the gun had a fresh belt of ammunition and it appeared to be in working order. Soon enough he would find out for sure if it was.

Swiveling around the metal arm that held the machine gun, he pointed it behind them and waited for the Humvees as they got closer, their lighter frames allowing them to drive at faster speeds than the heavy APC.

Three Humvees followed the runaway APC, and all three of them had mounted machine guns too, although only one could fire at a time since they were driving in single file. Wanting to get the first shots off, Joel didn't wait any longer and let loose with bursts from the .50 caliber, aiming for the tires. The lead Humvee began returning fire from their own mounted gun, bullets whizzing by and pinging off of the armor, leaving dents where they hit and making Joel feel more like a sitting duck as the seconds ticked away.

Sure enough, after several exchanged bursts between them, one of the front tires of the lead Humvee exploded and the whole vehicle lurched to the side and was thrown up a bit, crashing back down and then tipping and flipping end-over-end in a spectacular tumble that sent pieces of the vehicle flying in every direction. The second Humvee, the driver too slow to react, crashed into the first and added to the debris while the third and final Humvee managed to swing around out of the way and barely escaped joining the other two.

Joel looked around, trying to determine how far they were from the LZ. They had to be only another minute or two away, given how fast they had been driving. Yet they were still on the road when they should have turned into the surrounding forest by now.

Apparently reading his mind, the APC swerved sharply to the right, the sudden movement surprising Joel as he wasn't ready and his body slammed into the side of the open hatch. Grimacing from the pain, he clenched his teeth and let out a low growl as he steadied himself.

The APC was moving through rougher terrain now as it drove into the forest on a dirt road, low-lying branches of trees and some bushes smacking and scraping against the steel of the vehicle. Thinking it too dangerous to stay up there thanks to the added risk of getting whacked by a branch, Joel went back down and inside the APC, shutting and locking the hatch firmly.

"We there yet?" he called to Rooney as he went to check on the two unconscious members of their little group, steadying himself by pressing a hand towards the sides of the compartment.

"Almost, sir!" replied the sniper.

Checking on Hunter first since his condition seemed to be worsening, Joel felt a heavy feeling begin to settle in his gut as he found that the soldier's pulse was barely there. He might not live long enough to make it to proper medical attention.

He went to the young girl and checked her own pulse just in case, thankful that it was strong. She stirred slightly at his touch and he threw out another hand to steady himself as the APC came to a halt in a short span of time.

"We made it to the LZ, sir, but the chopper isn't here," stated Rooney, his worry seeping into his voice.

"They'll be here," he replied back with a confidence he didn't quite feel as he depressed the secondary button on his earpiece to switch the comm channel again.

In a more hushed tone, he spoke into the radio, "This is Agent Graves to London HQ. We are at the LZ with the package. Where the hell is my helicopter?"

There was no response.

"London HQ, this is Agent Graves! Is anyone even there? Answer me damn it!"

A reply finally came in a panicked tone. "Sorry, Agent Graves, we're under a lot of strain right now.."

He was about to tell them what kind of strain he and his team were under but the voice on the other end kept talking.

"We were able to secure your transport. Your helicopter is en route and should be there within the next minute."

"Thank you," was all he said after that and he switched the comm channel again.

Joel looked towards the driver's compartment and said, "Rooney, helicopter should be here in one min-"

**BOOM.**

He was suddenly thrown off his feet as something hit the APC with a massive force so strong and loud that it echoed inside the APC and the whole thing slid to the side, tipped, and then fell over. Grimacing and clutching his right shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the impact when he initially hit the side of the compartment, Joel struggled to get up.

"Oww…" said a young, feminine voice, in a groggy and soft tone. "What the hell?"

At least she was still alive, he thought. Joel called out to Rooney, "Rooney! You okay?"

It took a few seconds but the man replied, "Yeah. Just… a little shaken. I was thankfully buckled up." Sure enough the sniper maneuvered his way out of the driver's compartment and into the passenger compartment.

"Check on Hunter," Joel said to Rooney as he began to unstrap the young girl, who was looking around in a dazed manner.

"What's… what's going on?" she asked.

"Can you walk?" Joel questioned her as he helped her up.

She nodded, looking down at her legs. "Yeah, I think so."

Then Rooney spoke up in a grave tone of voice, "He's dead…. Sir… Hunter is dead."

Joel gave him a hard look, though he did feel bad this was not the time or place to mourn or be sorrowful. "Then we move on without him. The priority is securing the package, remember that. Now check the rear door, Rooney."

The sniper nodded, taking one last look at Hunter before shaking his head and walking to the back of the APC. "It isn't working, sir. Must've been damaged when we got hit."

Joel immediately looked to the machine gun hatch. "Alright, we're going through there," he pointed to it, "Rooney you take point. And you," he looked pointedly at the young girl, "You stay behind me and you follow me closely, you hear me?"

"OK." She still seemed rather confused about what was going on, but thankfully she was cooperative this time around.

Rooney walked by him towards the hatch ladder, pausing for a second and saying, "Are we really just going to leave him, sir?"

"We'll come back for him." Joel really hoped that they could, but from his short conversations with the local Agency field office in London he gathered that there was shit going down and retrieving an operative's body was probably low on the priority list at the moment.

Without another word the sniper crouched and went through the machine gun hatch tube, now horizontal with the ground since the vehicle was on its side, and he opened it up slowly. Peering all around, Rooney opened the hatch all the way and dragged himself out, taking his pistol out and cocking the hammer back; his sniper was of no use when the enemy was so close.

"It's clear!" Rooney hissed down the tube and Joel quickly got out after him.

The APC had a big black mark on the side of it and it was warped and cracked in several areas, with a huge dent in the armor. It was clear that the terrorists had used some kind of explosive weapon, but whatever they had used was fortunately too weak to pierce all the way through the APC's thick armor. It was strong enough to topple the vehicle, though.

Joel helped the redhead out of the APC, and as the girl's feet touched the ground, Rooney discharged his pistol and a man's voice nearby yelped in pain followed by a heavy rustling of leaves.

Joel raised his submachine gun against his shoulder, crouching low when he heard the gunshots and eyeing the sniper and then his downed target with squinting eyes. He nodded to the sniper who nodded back before taking a position near the front end of the APC.

"Where the hell is that chopper?" he said in a low voice as he made his way to the rear edge of the upturned armored vehicle. He could feel and hear the young girl behind him, her breathing rapid as she was undoubtedly panicking.

Hushed voices carried over to them, and Joel could make out three distinct ones close by.

He concentrated on hearing them.

"… don't kill the girl," one of them finished saying.

"Should we wait for backup?"

"There is no backup for us, so we can't screw up."

"Ah, fuck this! I'm out."

"What the bloody fuck do you mean you're out? You can't just leave."

Suddenly, gunshots echoed across the clearing that they were in, and Joel couldn't help but shake his head. At least they were helping him out by killing each other. He gripped the submachine gun tightly and edged around the APC, though not before telling the girl to hang back.

He spotted two figures about twenty feet away, hiding behind some trees, although clearly not directing their attention towards the APC itself.

"You shot Rick! You just…"

"Of course I shot Rick! We're not supposed to run from this, and you can't just leave the Phoenix Corps whenever you bloody hell want to. You took an oath!"

"Fuck the oath! And fuck you man!"

"Don't make me shoot you too…"

"Oh yeah?"

Joel grinned as he edged closer the whole time they were arguing, hoping that they would simply shoot each other fatally and save him the trouble. He made sure that he could see both of them, and he got close enough that he actually could see their Humvee further back beyond them as well.

"Wait, do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD.

Joel could hear it too. Finally, the thudding of a helicopter echoed across the woods. Their ride was coming.

"We can still get the girl and bring her back if we work together, but we need to be quick about it."

"Alright… Alright. Fine. I still can't believe you shot Rick. The bosses aren't gonna be happy."

"They're already unhappy with this mess. Besides, the bloody wanker had it coming."

Disappointed that they didn't end up shooting each other, Joel unremorsefully opened fire from his flanking position and mowed them both down as they moved towards the APC, their death cries brief and harsh against the otherwise quiet forest disturbed only by the sounds of the nearing helicopter. Checking to make sure there was no one else, he loudly declared the area to be clear.

Rooney and the young girl emerged from behind the APC and walked towards him, the sounds of the helicopter louder now. Rooney stepped over to the downed enemies and kicked them hard once in the sides to make sure they were dead before resting a little easier, though he kept his pistol out in his right hand.

Appearing over the far tree line of the clearing, a Sikorsky UH-60 Blackhawk helicopter flew low across the clearing and leaned back in the air to arrest its momentum before turning and then slowly lowering itself as Rooney waved his arms around and walked towards where it was landing.

Watching as the helicopter descended, Joel walked towards it, with the young girl following slowly behind him.

Two soldiers got out of the helicopter, and Rooney seemed to be telling them something and pointing over to the APC. The two soldiers looked at each other before nodding and Rooney and one of them ran to the vehicle, no doubt to retrieve Hunter's body.

"Sorry we're late, Agent Graves," apologized the remaining soldier loud enough over the whine of the Blackhawk's turbine, his eyes darting behind Joel and around the area in constant vigilance.

Joel said to him evenly, "Better late than never." He then waved for the young girl to get on board ahead of him, and she did so without any help even though his hand had been outstretched towards her to help her up.

Sitting down heavily across from the young girl, Joel noted her unreadable expression and wondered what exactly made her so special to the Phoenix Corps plans. As he watched Rooney and one of the soldiers carry Hunter's body over to the Blackhawk, he hoped that she was worth all this trouble.


	3. Jimmy

**In the Darkness**

Jimmy

* * *

They headed west over the English countryside, passing within fifty miles of London, towards the setting sun that set the mostly cloudless sky ablaze in a fiery concoction of yellows, oranges, and reds.

Joel leaned his head back against the headrest of his seat in an attempt to get more comfortable, listening to the rhythmic thumping of the rotor blades and the whine of the Blackhawk's turbine. It was tough to be comfortable with a shotgun strapped across your back though, but he didn't bother to adjust it or take it off.

Everyone aboard the Blackhawk had been quiet since they brought Hunter's body onto the helicopter and left the forest clearing. Lying on the floor between the seats was the motionless body, his upper half covered with a cloth. Occasionally, Joel noticed that the young girl would glance at the body but her gaze never stayed too long. She did not seem particularly disturbed by the sight and presence of a dead man.

He had this urge to talk to her and ask her all the questions that were floating around in his mind about her, and in particular about her involvement with the Phoenix Corps, but he refrained from doing so. As much as he was interested to know who she was and why she was so important to a bunch of terrorists, Joel knew that it was not his responsibility to know, nor was it the proper place to talk about such things anyway. His task was to retrieve the package and deliver it to the Agency, and that was as far as he should care about it.

Still, the curiosity ate at him as he studied the young girl for what seemed like the twentieth time in the last ten minutes since they had gotten airborne. In the close confines of the helicopter's passenger compartment, he noticed the small scar that ran diagonally across her right eyebrow and the small freckles that populated her cheeks and nose. She had a thin frame and he figured she was at most five feet tall, perhaps a little less. He noted the scabs of various cuts on her exposed skin, and a few bruises here and there. And then there were her green eyes. They looked far more mature and guarded than they ought to be.

He couldn't help but tense up with anger at the thought of the abuse she received at the hands of her captors, something that she had revealed when she thought he was one of them and accused him of tricking her into getting in trouble again. It was bad enough that they made her live like an animal in her own filth, but to treat a young girl with such violence was too much. Those types of men deserved a special place in hell. The one with the most pain and suffering, and he wouldn't mind it in the slightest if he were the one to send them their personally.

He tried to dispel any further thoughts about that as he tried to relax and let his emotions simmer down before they took a stronger hold. He had one job, and that was to get this girl back to the Agency. Caring about anything else went beyond the scope of his assignment. Over the past few years in service to the Agency, he had learned that it was best not to get too attached or invested into his missions. It was simply better that way. Most likely he would not see the young girl anymore after he reported back and delivered her.

The girl finally seemed to notice his scrutiny and met his amber eyes briefly with a steady gaze of her own before looking away.

Forty minutes of flying later and they touched down on a small CIA-operated airfield situated on top of some bluffs that overlooked the southwestern coast of England. Farmland stretched out for miles and miles around the area, the vast sea of varying shades of green interrupted every now and again by groups of buildings huddled together into villages and towns. The sun was already below the horizon, the last vestiges of its waning light clinging on to a sky that was already beginning to show some stars.

With United States Air Force bases in England, some questioned the necessity for the CIA having its own airfield in the country. The main reason was of course operational and informational security - the CIA operated in the shadows. Often in legally and morally questionable ways, and sometimes without administrative approval. Utilizing official military assets would leave too much of a paper trail and involve more people than the Agency was comfortable with, not to mention the fact that it was easier to operate independently without needing to coordinate with another organization.

The young redheaded girl was silent when they exited the Blackhawk and were escorted immediately towards a waiting Learjet idling not too far from where they landed on the tarmac. She regarded the plane for some time, looking up and down along the length of it with what Joel could only describe as awe before she turned around and stared at him, causing the group to stop. Rooney and the two soldiers watched silently as the two conversed.

"Okay,_ Joel_," she began hesitantly, shifting her weight from one leg to another, apparently still somewhat skeptical that it was his real name, "Before I go any further... I want... need to know a few things. Like, who do you work for? Where are you taking me? and why... why are you doing this?" Noticeably absent were any expletives that she had laced into her speech with abandon earlier and Joel took it as a sign that she understood that they meant her no harm. She crossed her arms, betraying her feelings of uncertainty and nervousness as she faced Joel.

Joel regarded her with a neutral expression for a moment as he mulled how best to respond to her questions. Should he tell her the truth or simply lie? Did it really matter?

"Alright," he replied slowly, "I guess it's fair that you know. I work for the United States government and I am taking you to my superiors at one of our facilities in Virginia," he replied. That was truthful enough without being too specific.

"And when we get there? What then? Will I be locked up in another cage?" Her tone took on a little bit of an edge as gripped herself tighter, green eyes squinting at him.

Joel gave her a hard look in return and frowned. "Look, I don't even know your name -"

"My name's Ellie," she said quickly, almost irritably, as if he should have known this already.

"- or why you were being held under heavy guard by terrorists," he continued with only the slightest of pauses, "My job is to simply get you back safely to my superiors who will have a lot of questions about what you know of the Phoenix Corps and their plans. Once you've answered them all, I imagine they will try to reunite you with your family. You gotta understand... we're the good guys here. You're safe now, Ellie. You can trust us."

"Trust? Pffft... You know, _t__hey_ said that they were the good guys too, and that I would be safe with them. Look how that ended up. So I hope you'll understand when I say I don't trust anyone anymore," she told him bitterly, "And for your information, I don't fucking have any family. There's just me," she added stiffly. Turning around, she then ran up the steps and disappeared into the aircraft cabin, leaving Joel at the base of it along with Rooney as the two soldiers from the Blackhawk stood at attention a few feet away pretending not to have heard anything.

Joel shook his head at her as he watched her go, a sudden pang of guilt shooting through him for a moment at the sad revelation. What the hell had they done to her?

"Well. That was unexpected. I do feel sorta impressed about how she's handling all this though," Rooney spoke up from beside him. "You'd think a girl her age would be more... subdued. Afraid. Overwhelmed even. Kinda makes you wonder what the hell she's been through to make her so tough." Rooney was still all geared up, his sniper rifle strapped across his back, though he held his helmet in his left hand. With his right hand, he reached out and extended it towards Joel, who took it with a firm grip as the two shared a solemn look.

"Listen, I'm sorry about Hunter," Joel said, ignoring the man's comments on the girl. Rooney had not been inside that warehouse. He had not seen the conditions of her prison. He did not hear her first words to Joel. She had been through much more than she deserved, and Joel probably didn't even know the half of it, much less so Rooney.

The sniper shrugged. "It's fine. He died in the line of fire, doing his duty, and that's as good a way to go as any," he replied with a tired voice. He looked up towards the open cabin door thoughtfully. "Sir, one more thing... I know... I know that we're not supposed to ask too many questions in this line of work, that we only know what we need to... but, man-to-man, do you have any idea what her deal is and why we rescued her?"

Joel sighed. As much as he would have liked to tell him if he had known, he knew about as much as the sniper did, which was nothing. With a shake of his head, he said, "Your guess is as good as mine."

Rooney slowly nodded, as if physically accepting that answer might help him come to terms with the fact that he probably will never know what good, if any, came from their mission. "I figured as much, though I had hoped you were simply holding back on telling the girl and that you actually did know. Sorry to ask, sir. I just... I'd feel better knowing that what we did today actually mattered and that this wasn't all just a pointless exercise, you know?"

"I hear ya," Joel agreed as they released each other's grip. "But don't forget that we at least saved her from those bastards. That's something good right there, if you ask me."

Rooney's mouth twisted into a small grin. "You're right. Well, take care of yourself, sir."

"You do the same." Joel respectfully clapped the man on the shoulder and then made his way up the short flight of steps into the plane.

Getting on board the sleek aircraft, he was greeted by the one flight attendant on the plane as he made his way further into the cabin, and the flight attendant eyed his weapons a little warily. Soon enough the door was pulled up and shut and the cabin secured for takeoff. Unlike Joel's plane ride to the United Kingdom, besides the crew there was no one else on this flight except him and the girl. There were only a few seats on this Learjet, and they were spaced out far enough to give ample legroom to even the tallest individual. All save one were empty.

Sitting in the very back with her legs curled up against her chest, arms wrapped around her legs and chin resting on her knees, was the young girl named Ellie. On the floor in front of her seat was her worn backpack, and he wondered what she had in it. Her green eyes were locked onto him and he gave her a nod, causing her to look away. He chose to sit closer to the front, in part so that he was far enough away that he didn't have to deal with her.

Finally taking the shotgun off his back and placing it in a seat, he then took the empty seat next to the weapon and buckled himself in, laying his MP-5 across his lap. He double-checked to make sure the safety was on - an accidental discharge would definitely not be welcome thousands of feet in the air. For this last leg of the mission, the odds of him needing to use the guns were so small they were practically nonexistent and he actually should have turned them in before getting onto the plane, at least the MP-5 and the shotgun, but nobody had said anything and he didn't feel like parting with them just yet while the mission was unfinished. There was definitely something comforting about having guns at your side.

Trying to clear his mind and get some rest, he reclined the seat and closed his eyes just as the plane lurched forward to begin moving towards the runway. He could not wait to deliver the girl and be done with this whole mess so that he could return to his own little girl. By the time the plane took to the air, he had already dozed off.

-**xxxVxxx**-

Ellie observed as the man who had saved her from that awful prison in a whirlwind break-out walked onto the plane and down the aisle a little, catching her eye and giving her a nod before taking his seat. She wanted to march up and apologize for how coldly and rudely she had been acting towards him, to believe his words and let him know that she honestly was grateful to be out of that hellhole, but she had been lied to and manipulated too many times to count and it was really difficult for her to not only be nice but to place her trust in anyone anymore. He did seem sincere enough, she would give him that.

She blew air out of her mouth slowly, resting her dirty cheek to her knees and turning to look out the window just as the sudden acceleration of the plane pushed her back into her seat. Soon the ground slowly fell away and the plane hurtled headlong into the sky. Feeling a little awed by the experience since this was her first time on an airplane, at least as far as she could remember, she stared out the closest window for some time, watching as they reached higher than even the clouds as they floated along above the world.

How she wished she could simply fly away from all of this herself.

She looked back towards Joel, his right shoulder and arm the only thing visible from where she was sitting. He was taking her to the U.S. government for questioning, and she could roll with that. She would tell them what she knew and then hopefully, as he said, she would be sent on her merry way. The thought of moving on and attempting to live a normal life actually frightened her more than death itself. She would be alone, with nowhere to go, and with a terrible and inescapable past. There was no more normal for her, she knew that already, and to even attempt to be normal sounded like a futile effort. But she felt like after all she and those she knew had gone through, she should at least give it a try, futile or not.

After so many years of being a prisoner, she had already forgotten what it was like to be free. To actually live as much outside a set of walls as inside them. Those early years of her life outside before being brought to the Phoenixes were only vague and fuzzy memories that faded as the days passed on. Sometimes she even wondered how much of what she could remember was real instead of simply a fabrication of her imagination, fueled by her desires and dreams.

She didn't even know who her father was. Apparently he had died shortly after she was born, but she didn't actually know for sure, though it was hard to miss having a father since she didn't know what it was like to have one to begin with.

Ellie could barely even remember her own mother, who raised her until she too passed away and left her all alone. Anna was her name, and thinking about her made Ellie's thoughts turn to the crumpled and worn letter that lay inside her well-worn bag along with what few possessions she owned.

It was a long, hand-written and tear-stained letter that tried to apologize and explain why she was leaving Ellie at this place called an orphanage, and she had read it so many times that she could picture it clearly in her mind. Her mother had been very ill and when she realized she would not make it, she began to write this letter so that one day her daughter might understand what happened.

After the vague explanations, her mother shared a few stories of Ellie's much younger days, some of which Ellie could actually remember, though most of them were unknown to her and could have been made up for all she knew. That part read almost like a diary instead of a letter.

Towards the end of the note the woman had expressed her hopes and her dreams for her daughter. She had hoped that Ellie would one day leave the orphanage, taken in by a loving family who could raise her and provide for her like she couldn't, and she would have a bright and happy future. She would learn to love, to live, and to leave her mark on the world. And through it all, her mother had said she would watch over her from heaven.

Closing her eyes, Ellie wondered how she had ever believed all that bullshit.

-**xxxVxxx**-

Sarah was in her pajamas, lying down sideways on the couch watching some comedy B-movie with her head resting on one of the plush cushions, when her uncle walked into the living room looking distracted and tired. He didn't notice the young girl at first, so lost was he in his thoughts.

"Hey uncle Tommy. Are you going to check on Jimmy again?" she asked, turning her head slightly to better look at her uncle.

Tommy nodded absently. "Yeah." Then he stopped as if he remembered something important. Turning to his niece, he gave her a stern look. "What time is it, Sarah?"

"Umm.. peanut butter jelly time?" she said with a grin in her best attempt at sounding clueless, rubbing her eyes tiredly after she spoke.

Tommy snorted. "What? Nevermind. C'mon, it's late. Get upstairs and get to bed, kiddo. Besides, you've already watched too much TV for one night," he said while walking over to grab the remote and turn off the television.

"But uncle Tommyyyy, it's Friday..." she pouted. not wanting to go to bed yet even though she was clearly feeling sleepy.

He wasn't budging on the subject, however. "No ifs, ands, or buts about it, Sarah. Get to bed."

"Okay, okay, I'm going. Can I at least get some water?" she said with a resigned tone as she got up off the couch.

"Of course. Go get somethin' to drink. When I get back from Jimmy's your butt better be in bed, okay?"

Sarah nodded. "Yes, uncle Tommy." Yawning, she went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Tommy followed her, keeping an eye on her as she got a glass of water and then made her way upstairs. Truthfully, he did not much care what time she slept on the weekends, but tonight was an exception. With Jimmy seriously ill he was afraid he might contract whatever sickness he had, and at least having Sarah in her room would keep their contact to a minimum until he could sort it all out. Once he heard the door to her room shut, he went out the back door and walked the thirty yards over to Jimmy's backyard.

Jimmy lived alone, though he had some family about two towns away in the next county. He worked as a mechanic at an auto shop in the city, an hour-long commute one way, working long hours to help save up enough money to go to college while also having enough to pay his mortgage and help out his parents. He worked hard, like most people in the area, and he was a nice enough guy that Tommy got along pretty well with him whenever they both had some free time to talk and hang out.

About an hour and a half earlier, he had left Jimmy in his bed with a cold rag on his forehead and two glasses of water in case he was thirsty. His fever was unabated and he was still pretty much unconscious, mumbling a few words every now and again like he was in some bad dream.

This was the third time he was checking up on Jimmy after bringing him back home, and he prayed while walking over that his neighbor might finally start getting better. The first time he had checked on Jimmy he had seemed neither better nor worse than when he brought him back home.

The second visit, he seemed to be getting worse and Tommy was beginning to regret his decision to not take him to the hospital immediately after the incident at the diner. If he wasn't any better this time around, Tommy could no longer justify not taking him to the hospital. He would have to get himself checked too, just in case he might have contracted the same illness from interacting with his neighbor so closely. From what he had seen so far he hoped that it was not infectious.

He opened the sliding glass door that led into the dining room of Jimmy's house. There was one lamp on in the corner, but otherwise the room was dark along with much of the house. Walking around the simple furniture he walked through the dining and living rooms, the echoing of a ticking clock was a marching drum of sorts on his silent march through his neighbor's home. Up the stairs and around the corner he went, stopping in front of Jimmy's room for a moment of quiet prayer that the man would be improved this time.

Turning the handle, he pushed the door open slowly.

"Jimmy?" he said with a measure of relief as he took a step inside and his eyes locked on to the figure standing hunched over by the bed next to the far wall. At first glance it looked like his neighbor was finally feeling better, at least well enough to stand and walk around. Then he noticed the covers of his bed were strewn around the place and one of the glasses of water on the nightstand was lying broken on the floor, the carpet dark and wet around it. The other glass of water stood untouched on the nightstand.

His neighbor didn't seem to have heard him because he continued to stand in place by the bed, back turned towards him, without so much as an acknowledgement of his presence.

Tommy was about to call out to him again when he realized that there was something off with the way he was standing. Something _wrong_. He took another wary step into the room, eyes trained on Jimmy. He saw it in the way he was hunched over, and then the slight spasms of his upper body that seemed to come in waves, his head shaking in an almost seizure-like way. There was a tremor in his arms too. It all seemed so unnatural. And then Jimmy started to moan. A painful, sorrowful moan that sent a shiver down Tommy's spine. What the hell?

"Jimmy?" he said again, louder, feeling very strongly like he should get out of there and call 9-1-1 and yet rooted to the spot out of both uncertainty and concern for his friend.

His neighbor stiffened, then shook like he was silently coughing hard, arms flailing about. Then he let out a low guttural growl that made Tommy finally take a step back towards the hallway, not looking away from his ill friend for one second. That did not sound or look good at all. Taking another step back, he bumped into the door with a slight thud.

Jimmy suddenly whipped his head around, his face pale and sweaty, and his bloodshot eyes eerily aglow.

* * *

**Author's notes: **Safe to say that I love this game and its characters. Going on my second play-through of the game already! Shorter chapter, I know, but next chapter will be another long one.


	4. Pandemic

**In the Darkness**

Pandemic

* * *

BOOM.

The fleeting explosive sound was followed by the house quivering and the windows rattling from the blast. Sarah's eyes fluttered open at the disturbance. It sounded like it came from close by. Several car alarms could be heard going off outside.

What the heck was that? She had been more than halfway asleep when it happened and she rubbed her eyes tiredly, yawning as she swiveled her legs over the edge of her bed, bare feet touching the soft carpet.

She reached for her cellphone, a small baby blue flip-open thing that her father had given her after she had pretty much begged him for it; in the suburbs of Washington D.C. apparently most kids her age had cellphones and she wanted to fit in, being the new girl after all. Her few friends - most of them on the soccer team - were happy to be able to contact her without having to call her home phone all the time. In fact, they rarely called and mostly texted. Not that she minded because at least she could communicate with them.

Her dad had not been too keen on giving her a phone at her age, but he eventually relented, although he didn't get her any of those fancy new smartphones and opted to give her this older model. Sarah didn't care about that though because at least she had one.

"Aw mannn," she whispered as she eyed the top left corner of the display, "No signal." Turning off the phone and turning it back on again, she was disappointed to find that there was still no cell service. Usually she had at minimum three bars around this area, so something must have happened to take out the signal service. Slipping the phone into the pocket of her plaid pajama pants, she made her way out of her room and knocked on her uncle's bedroom door down the hall.

"Uncle Tommy?"

No answer. She knocked again, harder this time. "Uncle Tommy, are you in there?"

Only silence followed and then she slowly opened the door. The room was dark, the shades drawn, and flipping the lights on she realized it was empty. His bed hadn't even been touched, which meant he had yet to come up. The loud wailing of police sirens nearby suddenly made her a little nervous and she went over to the house phone next to the bed, picking it up. There was no dial tone.

"Why aren't any of the phones working?" she mumbled.

She put it back on the phone base and quickly went downstairs. As she got to the bottom of the staircase, she glanced out the window facing the front of the house and saw a red-orange glowing in the distance with a plume of smoke rising up into the sky. That was what that boom was. It must have been a really big explosion from what she could see from the window and she hoped nobody was hurt.

The lights were still on in the living room and kitchen, just as when she had gone upstairs to go to bed earlier. Besides the noise of the car alarms from outside, the house was quiet. No sign of her uncle.

"Helloo? Uncle Tommy?" she called out, her feet padding softly onto the cool floor tiles of the kitchen. No answer.

He was probably still at Jimmy's place, so she decided to just wait since she doubted she could fall asleep anytime soon. Pouring herself another glass of water, she made her way to the living room and sat down on the couch, bringing her legs up and crossing them underneath her. The glass of water she held by her crossed feet and she reached for the TV remote.

With a click of the remote the television glowed to life. Moving black and white streaks and static greeted her. Flipping through the channels, she discovered that most of them were the same, except for one news channel that was still live.

_"… reports are coming in from all over. This is not an isolated incident, with much of the continental United States and even countries around the globe experiencing what many are already calling a Pandemic. The National Guard and all available military assets are already being mobilized and deployed. So far we have no official word from the government on what is happening. We'll keep broadcasting for as long as we can…"_

Sarah's heart quickened as she continued watching. Taking her phone out to check if it finally had signal - it didn't - she returned her attention to the TV, trying to figure out what in the world was going on. What was taking her uncle so long?

-**xxxVxxx**-

Joel stirred, awoken by the call of nature coming from his bladder. He looked out the window into the dark of the night that was interrupted every other second by the brief flashes of the airplane lights. Unbuckling his seat belt, he stood and stretched out, and then walked up to the lavatory at the front of the plane. It was unfortunately occupied however.

"Figures," he muttered, glancing to the rear of the plane towards the other lavatory.

"Need anything, sir?" asked the flight attendant from behind him.

Joel half-turned and shook his head, "Uh, no. I'm fine. Just needed to go to the restroom, that's all. But this one's occupied."

The attendant looked worriedly at the closed door. "Yeah, the captain's in there. He didn't look so good when I saw him and he's been in there a while..."

Joel grunted, not really caring. "You know what? A bottle of water sounds great actually. You can leave it on my chair. Thanks."

He started walking towards the back of the plane before the attendant could say anything else. Passing by the young girl who was fast asleep in her seat, he saw her bag on the ground with her feet resting on it and he briefly wondered why the terrorists had let her keep it. They had not only captured her and held her prisoner, but treated her badly as well, and yet they let her keep the bag and whatever else was inside it. No doubt whatever she had with her was important to her. Someone higher up in the command chain must have ordered that she be allowed to have it with her, but why? Sighing, he shook his head as he got to the aft lavatory. No sense wasting time thinking on it though since she was going to be off his hands, and his mind, soon enough.

After relieving himself, and as he was washing his hands, he began to at least feel grateful that the mission hadn't taken nearly as long as he had thought. That meant he would be able to go down to Texas sooner and spend some good family time with his brother and daughter. Maybe if he had enough free days he could fly them all out to the Carr-

Screams of pain from the cabin interrupted his thoughts and he was already out of the lavatory a second later, only to see a gruesome sight.

Up front by the cockpit, the forward lavatory door was broken and barely hanging by its hinges. Two of the plane's crew looked at first to be hugging each other right outside of it, except they were struggling against one another. One was trying to get away while the other was holding on and _biting_ into the man's neck. Blood stained the victim's white uniform, the stain getting darker and bigger, as blood splattered and squirted against the walls. The yelps and cries of the victim were weakening, as was his struggling against his attacker, and the attacker himself seemed more like a rabid animal disguised as a human than anything else as he was making strange, guttural noises while he bit into the man.

"What in the hell?" Joel breathed as he stepped forward, tightly gripping the headrest of the nearest seat, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Captain! C-Captain stop! What... What are you d-doing? You're killing him!" said the flight attendant who was by Joel's seat with a bottle of water, the beverage slipping out of his hands and falling to the floor with a heavy thud.

The captain turned, suddenly very interested in the flight attendant as the other officer, who Joel presumed to be the co-pilot, staggered back into the cockpit.

The flight attendant looked down quickly and grabbed Joel's MP-5 that had been sitting in his seat. "S-Stay back!" he warned, shakily raising the gun up.

Joel cursed and moved up the aisle. The fool better not fire wildly or else he would seriously endanger them all.

The crazed captain, fresh blood from his fellow crew member streaming from his mouth and staining his own white uniform, moved aggressively towards the flight attendant.

Gunshots sounded and it was clear the flight attendant had never handled a gun before. Or at the very least not a sub-machine gun like the MP-5. His shots went everywhere and he emptied the whole magazine, managing to hit the captain thrice in the gut and twice in the shoulder. A moment later the plane lurched and the engines began to whine louder, as if in protest.

"Ugh shit!" Joel steadied himself by grabbing onto the seats as he moved forward.

The crazed captain was thrown off his feet, along with the flight attendant, but the former quickly recovered and scrambled onto the fallen man who began to scream in fear and then agony as the captain was upon him, teeth wetting themselves with his blood.

"Joel!" Ellie cried in alarm from behind him, finally awakened by all the commotion.

"Stay in your seat! Make sure you're buckled up!" he yelled without looking back.

The captain looked up sharply at him with bloodshot eyes that seemed to glow, moaning and then growling before trying to get to his feet in an attempt to get to him. Fresh blood coated much of his upper torso and streamed down from his mouth.

"Oh no you don't," said Joel as he drew the 9mm pistol from the secondary holster, automatically flipping the safety off. He didn't hesitate, having witnessed what the crazed man had already done to his crew members. Two gunshots to the face and the captain fell, body spasming but clearly dead. The bullets exited the back of his head, leaving two bloody openings, and embedded themselves into one of the walls of the lavatory. The entire three-man crew was dead and the only threat now was the out-of-control plane. Holstering the pistol, he stepped over their bodies to move forward.

The plane lurched again and they began to descend at a faster rate, the fuselage groaning from the strain of the extraordinary maneuvers, prompting Joel to speed up his movement towards the cockpit, holding on to the seats to keep his balance as he moved down the aisle.

Smoke laced through the air of the cockpit and Joel's eyes were quick to note several bullet holes in the wide dashboard, sparks flying from some of the damage. Sprawled all over the co-pilot's seat and splattering the area with blood, a shoulder pressed up against the yoke, was the co-captain. Realizing that the copilot's shoulder was pushing them into a nose-dive, Joel immediately grabbed the heavy dead man and lifted him up and onto the ground with a lot of effort. There was a myriad of insistent beeping noises and blinking lights and it seemed like every beeping alarm possible was going off. The number of controls, lights, and dials was daunting, but he tried to think which ones were important, hoping to make sense of them.

"Holy shit. Holy shit. They're dead... they're definitely dead," said a fearful Ellie from behind him as she spotted the co-pilot on the ground, causing him to jump ever so slightly because he had not expected her to come up to the cockpit.

"What the hell did I tell you about bucklin' up?" he replied angrily as he spared a glare towards her, noting that she had her backpack on, her hands extended outwards and to the sides to brace herself.

She looked up at him like he was stupid. "No way I'm gonna sit back there all alone and wait for this fucking plane to crash!"

The plane shuddered as they hurtled towards the ground almost head on, causing them both to look to the controls with alarm. "SINK RATE! PULL UP! SINK RATE! PULL UP!" complained a computerized voice.

"Please tell me you can fly a plane, Joel," she said fearfully as she finally got a good look at the damaged cockpit.

He maneuvered into the pilot's seat without answering her, taking the headset from its hook rest and putting it on. He waved his hand around to clear some of the smoke away, coughing a little. Ellie jumped into the co-pilot's seat and strapped herself in, pulling on the straps tightly to secure herself properly, repeating over and over to herself in a frightened tone that they were going to die. He looked around at the controls in panic as he gripped the yoke of the plane. Now what? He had no idea how to fly a damn plane.

-**xxxVxxx**-

"Jimmy..." Tommy said in a warning voice as he edged into the hallway.

His neighbor growled and then stumbled towards him, hands rising to grab at him but all they grabbed was air as Tommy moved aside completely into the hallway. Jimmy clumsily ran into the door and turned to Tommy, who was looking at him with a bewildered expression. What in the hell was wrong with the guy? He looked possessed and sickly, and he sounded like it too.

Jimmy came after him again and Tommy booked it down the stairs, his enraged neighbor noisily and ungracefully following. Through the front door he went, covering the short distance between their houses and quickly getting inside. His breaths were short and quick and he rested against the door, trying desperately to understand what was going on.

"Uncle Tommy!" Sarah gasped from the couch, standing worriedly at the sight of him by the door and out of breath.

"Sarah," he said, "Call 911. Jimmy is... there's somethin' terribly wrong with him."

"I can't, the phones are down."

"Cellphones too?"

"Yeah. There's no cell service."

He frowned at that. "Damn it."

"We shoulda taken him to the hospital..." she said.

Tommy sighed. Looking back on it now, he wished they had. Maybe the doctors could have saved him. He noticed movement outside through the windows and instinctively ducked to avoid being seen. "Get down," he hissed at Sarah, who followed his lead and crept closer to him. She looked scared. From outside, the sounds of moaning could be heard.

"Is it... Jimmy?"

He nodded.

"He must be infected like the others..." she said softly.

"Infected? Like the others? What are you talking about?"

She looked over her shoulder at the television, which was turned off. "I... I was watchin' the news before the broadcast stopped... and... they're callin' it a... a pandemic, sayin' that... people who are infected with this strange fungus thing, they... they become violent and attack anyone, even their families. It's happenin' all over and the military is gettin' involved and..."

"Sweet Jesus," breathed Tommy, running a hand through his hair.

"What do we do?" Sarah whispered.

"Let me think," he replied. The phones were down and his neighbor was apparently crazy now. Maybe a trip to the police station would be a good start. He went close to the nearest window facing the front of his house and slowly took a peek outside. Jimmy was shuffling around on his lawn, continuing to moan as his upper body spasmed every few seconds and his arms flailed about. The car was in his driveway, but they would have to get past his infected neighbor first. He told Sarah to wait and went to retrieve his shotgun - it was a barely used Benelli M2 that he had bought off of a friend "for emergencies" and this definitely qualified as one.

Getting to his office, he went to his desk and grabbed the key to the gun cabinet from its hiding spot in one of the drawers. The cabinet was in the corner and although it was big enough to hold multiple guns, the M2 was the only one he owned. He didn't even have a handgun, though he had always been meaning to get one. It was never a priority though, particularly because he had the shotgun, but now he wished he had one.

The shotgun was cool to the touch as he grabbed it, reassured by the solid weight in his hands. The gun seemed to be in working condition, though he would find out soon enough. He took the unopened box of shells at the bottom of the cabinet and ripped the top off, loading five shells into the tubular magazine, sliding the pump back to put one in the chamber before placing one last shell in for the maximum capacity. He then grabbed the remaining twelve gauge shells and stuffed all of them into his pockets. Even though they were bulky and annoying, he had a feeling he was going to need as many shells as he could carry.

When he returned to Sarah, she eyed the shotgun warily at first but then seemed to take comfort in the fact that he had one.

"Okay, here's the deal. We need to get the hell out of here and into my truck. When we get out there you stick real close to me, okay?"

She nodded, "I got it." Her grey eyes looked up at the nearest window with worry.

"Let's go."

They moved to the front door where Tommy grabbed the keys from the key holder screwed into the wall. Holding the shotgun close, he opened the door slowly and the two of them walked outside. Jimmy was looking away but then turned and spotted them, letting out another growl before running towards them and groaning as he went.

Sarah gasped and grabbed a hold of Tommy's shirt as the shotgun boomed with a flash and Jimmy was thrown back, his entire left shoulder gone. His severed left arm flew through the air, landing across the yard and close to the road.

"C'mon!" Tommy said urgently and they both ran for the pickup truck.

Once inside, Tommy started it up, the engine rumbling to life. "Buckle up," he said as he secured his own seatbelt with a click.

Gravel crunched beneath the heavy-duty tires of his truck. They drove away and passed by several families who also lived on this street who were packing suitcases and other crap into their cars, trying to get away as well. It was strange to see them trying to bring all their things with them, particularly since Tommy and Sarah hadn't brought anything of theirs with them. But some people, even in a crisis, are still overly concerned with their material possessions. To the left in the distance Tommy noted plumes of smoke and the red-orange tinges of light that indicated several fires. For the most part the back roads were empty and he was grateful for that as they continued to drive along, heading for the county police station.

"He's... He's dead... You killed him," remarked the young girl from the passenger seat, uneasily.

"I had to. He wasn't... He wasn't himself," he explained, "He was infected, like... like what you saw on the news." At least that was the only possible explanation for the behavior that his neighbor had displayed.

Tommy turned on the radio, but there was nothing playing. No radio stations seemed to be on the air.

"Uncle Tommy, are we... are we gonna get sick too? Are we infected?" Sarah suddenly asked, staring at her open palms on her lap.

"No honey. We won't get sick," he replied with as much confidence as he could project. "And if we were infected, we would have been like Jimmy by now." At least that's what he hoped.

In the distance he could see police cars blocking the road and he stopped as one of the officers stepped onto the road and held a hand up, the other hand holding a pistol by his side. A few other officers manning the roadblock had their guns trained at them and Tommy couldn't help but gulp as he rolled down his window and the officer approached.

"The area ahead is off limits, sir. You're going to have to turn around," the officer said.

"Look officer, we were hopin' to get to the county police station. We're just tryin' to get to a safe place," he told the policeman.

The man frowned, "There ain't a lot of safe places anymore," he remarked as his hard eyes drifted over to the young girl in the passenger seat. "But the military's setting up a checkpoint by the highway. I'm willing to bet that it's going to be real crowded, but it's your best bet to get to safety. They're supposedly trying to set up some safe zones where they can bring the uninfected. Where they are and when those will be open, I have no idea."

Gunfire erupted ahead of them, bright flashes of light coming from their weapons, as the police officers manning the roadblock began to engage some infected who were running towards them from the road beyond. The officer turned back to them as he readied his pistol, "Get out of here!" He ran back to the roadblock, taking a position behind a patrol car and began to fire at the advancing crowd of infected. There were way too many for the officers to take down all of them before they reached the roadblock.

"Uncle Tommy..." Sarah said fearfully as he shifted the truck into reverse, tires kicking up dirt as he turned around and headed back the other way. They turned onto a dirt road they had passed earlier. As they rounded a bend, a farmhouse off to the right on the hill was ablaze in a brilliant fiery display.

"Holy hell. That's Louis' farm..." he said sadly, driving past it.

Sarah stared out the window at the burning home. "Do you think they made it out?"

"I'm sure they did."

They turned right at the next intersection, still having not met another car on the road, and as they approached a short bridge up ahead the headlights illuminated a family of three walking on the side of the road. A little boy and his parents. The father started to wave at them with both hands over his head.

"Let's see what they need," Tommy said as he rolled to a stop next to them.

They piled into the back. The little boy was crying and the mother was trying to comfort him as the father breathed a sigh of relief and then spoke up.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you so much," he said, his voice shaky.

"No problem. Name's Tommy, this is my niece Sarah," Tommy introduced themselves as the mother shut the door. Sarah waved at them and said hello.

"I'm Richard. This is my wife Becky and our son Ricky," the man replied.

"Thank you again, Tommy," said Becky as she held her son close, the little boy whimpering into her silk nightgown under the jacket that she was wearing as she stroked his head soothingly.

Richard glanced at his family and then asked, his voice regaining some composure, "Where y'all headed?"

Tommy continued to drive and got onto the bridge. "We heard the military has set up some kinda checkpoint by the highway. Supposedly they're letting uninfected people through and bringing 'em to safety somewhere. Not sure exactly though."

"Yeah, we heard 'bout the checkpoint too... but uninfected huh? So this is some kind of... virus or somethin'? What the hell is going on?" the man said as gripped the back of the driver's chair and leaned forward over the center console, staring ahead.

"I'm not really sure," was all Tommy could say as they crossed over the bridge.

To their left stood the hospital and it was most likely full to capacity. An ambulance, lights flashing and siren blaring, pulled out from there and sped past them back towards the way they came. The road sloped downward and they came to a halt behind a sea of brake lights as dozens of cars clogged the road all the way to the highway. Honking and shouting echoed across the night. From here they could see the big military vehicles set up for the checkpoint just past the on-ramp.

"Aw hell, looks like everybody and their mother's got the same damn idea," Tommy lamented, hitting the steering wheel in annoyance with the palm of his hand. It would take them hours in this traffic to get to the checkpoint, and something told him that they didn't have that much time. But how else were they going to get to the checkpoint?

Things were not looking good at all. He wished that his brother was there to help and he wondered whether Joel was caught up in all of this too. Hopefully he was okay.

-**xxxVxxx**-

Joel fought hard against the yoke as he managed to at least prevent the Learjet from spiraling out of control. Now they were only descending out of control, which was of course still a massive problem. The altimeter was decreasing rapidly and Joel quickly looked for the radio controls to try and radio for help as he started to pull back on the yoke; they would need someone to help them once they landed so sending out a distress message was important he figured. _If_ they were alive that is.

Finally finding it, he activated the radio broadcast and began to send out a mayday message just as he pulled back some more with both hands on the yoke, but it resisted his efforts and he barely managed to make it budge as the plane continued to hurtle towards the ground. Joel grimaced, gripping the yoke harder and focusing on pulling with more strength.

"Ellie! Help me pull!" From the corner of his eye he saw the young girl begin to pull on it as well.

The Learjet continued to shudder violently as the plane began to ease out of its sudden dive, though the dark ground was coming up towards them at a still frightening rate. Alarms continued to sound while the computerized voice continued to blare "SINK RATE! PULL UP! SINK RATE! PULL UP!" They were still pulling on the yoke and the plane was finally, slowly obeying. The sound of tearing metal could be heard and Joel looked to the left in horror, watching as parts of the left wing began to break off from the tremendous stress of the rapid descent.

"We're not going to make it... we're not going to make it... we're not going to make it!" Ellie screamed, tears suddenly rolling down her cheeks.

"Keep! Pulling!" he yelled, his heart pounding so hard like it was trying to escape from his chest. They were pulling out of the nosedive but they were nowhere near level. Was this how it was going to end?

"Terrain! Pull up! Terrain! Pull up!" the computerized voice suddenly changed its warning.

"Joel!"

"Brace yourself!" he cried moments before impact.

* * *

**A/N: -edited 7/11/2013- **Many thanks to BenignViewer for helping me out with the plane scene.


	5. Broken

** In the Darkness**

Broken

* * *

"Might be better if we walked to the damn checkpoint," Tommy remarked as he eyed the veritable sea of cars ahead of them, his patience wearing thin. They had barely moved from when they first arrived, although that wasn't more than a few minutes ago.

The driver of the car in front of them stepped out of his vehicle, staring out at the traffic ahead and raising his hands in exasperation.

"What the fuck? Come on people!" he yelled, "Let's fucking get a move on here!" The man leaned back into his car and honked the horn several times, causing a few others ahead of him to honk as well.

Tommy snorted. "Yeah, like that's going to do anything."

"What in the hell...?" said Richard from behind him and just as Tommy was going to ask what he was talking about he saw it.

One of the patients from the hospital, still dressed in his hospital gown and with blood all over his face, neck, and the collar of the gown, was running wildly with flailing arms towards the driver of the vehicle in front of them. The driver didn't even notice until the last second, when he turned and flinched as the man tackled him into his own car, both of them falling to the ground with the crazed patient on top of him beating at him relentlessly, bloody face snarling and feral. The driver's companion in the passenger seat started screaming as a second patient arrived and entered the open driver's side door, attacking the woman sitting in the passenger seat.

"Ummm... Uncle Tommy..." Sarah whispered fearfully, her left hand reaching out to him and gripping tightly against his bicep and her other hand bracing against the door. Her breaths became short and panicked as she watched the horrifying scene unfold.

"Get us out of here damn it!" Richard yelled in alarm.

Tommy nodded, putting the car into reverse. "Got it."

The first patient looked up at them from the sudden movement and got to his feet. He started running towards Tommy's pickup.

"Come on! Come onnn... Let's get moving Tommy!" Richard started yelling louder, protectively placing an arm around his family as he nervously watched the bloody patient running towards them.

THUMP!

The patient managed to get a hand on the car window on Richard's side right as the trucks rear tires screeched with Tommy flooring it, practically flying onto the country road that led to the town and away from whatever the hell those patients had become.

Ricky was whimpering into her mother's chest.

"What the fuck man! What the fuck just happened?" breathed Richard, gripping Tommy's seat in front of him.

"I have no idea," he replied truthfully as he drove on, trying to understand it himself. Obviously it was some kind of sickness that drove people to be come aggressive almost zombie-like things. Those people looked to have the same illness as Jimmy, but just because he'd seen it before didn't mean he understood what was happening, and he could only guess.

"Language," Becky warned weakly, as if language was still something to worry about in the current situation.

"Sorry," her husband said. Richard leaned forward and looked ahead as they made their way into town. "Now what? We can't go back there and that's the only way to the highway unless we go all the way around..."

Tommy turned left and immediately brought the truck to a stop as a bunch of people were running in the middle of the street.

"Aw hell, come on people. Move!" Tommy said with a shake of his head. Of course it wasn't that easy to just drive through the town. Further ahead there was a bus that crashed into some parked cars on the side of the road, effectively blocking most of the way except for the sidewalk to the left. It looked like the truck would fit, except people were running towards them from the space that he wanted to drive through. One of the fleeing people was looking back towards where he came and ran into the truck, his eyes wide with surprise as he looked at them all before shaking his head and running around them.

"Uh... what are they running from?" asked Sarah nervously. Her hand was still holding onto her uncle's arm.

"Doesn't matter, we need to get through and find a way to that checkpoint," replied her uncle.

Richard asked doubtfully, "Are you sure there's a way through the town?"

"There's gotta be," Tommy said with more confidence than he felt, and they all knew it. The highway was right next to the other edge of town so there had to be a way up to it from there, even if they had to go on foot.

There was a break in the crowd of people and Tommy took this chance to drive around the bus, nearly running some people over in the process but at least they were through. Driving through the next intersection, it was Becky who yelled from the backseat, "Watch out!" before a car speeding down the road to their left slammed violently into the truck with a resounding crash, shattering glass and bending steel.

-**xxxVxxx**-

For a while she drifted in total darkness. She couldn't feel anything, not even her own body. She couldn't hear or smell anything either. There was just her consciousness and the nothingness that surrounded her. Was she dead? Was this what it was like to die? With a growing sense of horror she tried to move, to do anything, but she was stuck there in that dark space.

Even back when they were experimenting on her she never felt this way, mostly because she was too drugged up to feel or even think anything while unconscious. If this was death, then she was ready to be back in the land of the living again. Or maybe even just cease to exist altogether instead of staying in this dark void. Of all things, she was most terrified of being alone, and now here she was all by herself in what looked to be an eternal darkness. Absolutely fucking fantastic.

How long she drifted in that state, she didn't know. There was no way to tell the passage of time. It may have been as short as a few seconds or as long as a few hours. But eventually something changed. She felt the first wave of it. Pain. A simple flare up of pain at first, like being prodded hard with a stick, and it faded away quickly enough that she thought at first she had imagined it on her way to going crazy from being alone in this void. But then it came back and lasted longer.

While the pain hurt, she couldn't help but be elated at the return of some sense of feeling. She couldn't be dead. If she were dead, she wouldn't be able to feel pain or anything at all. At least that's what she thought, and so she was still somehow alive. But why couldn't she move?

The pain was growing, becoming more persistent. And suddenly she felt some force pulling on her. No longer was she adrift in this sea of black nothingness, something taking hold of her and pulling her along with increasing rapidity until with a jolt she awoke, the restraints of her seat keeping her securely in the chair.

Every part of her body was in pain, though her chest, neck, and head had the worst of it. She imagined that this was what it must feel like to be stuffed into a steel barrel and thrown off the side of a cliff. A very high and jagged cliff. And in the steel barrel there were rocks. Not that the pain was that big of a deal. She was hurting sure, but alive, and that was more than enough to be thankful for given the situation.

There was light coming through her eyelids and she slowly opened her eyes but closed them almost instantly, blinded by the increase in light. Her right knee throbbed with pain and she touched it gingerly, wincing at the pressure. She hoped it wasn't broken otherwise walking would be extremely difficult, not to mention her activities would be restricted.

Her head suddenly began to throb and there was a stronger, stinging pain on the top left side of her head. Reaching up with an aching arm she touched the part where it hurt, hissing a little when it stung. She felt liquid on her fingers and inspected them through very squinted eyes, noting the red blood where she had touched her head wound. She closed her eyes. She felt woozy and out of breath, each breath difficult and uncomfortable, her chest feeling tight and lungs restricted.

She felt like such a mess. Taking a moment to ease her breathing, though it still hurt every time she drew breath, she opened her eyes again. She looked around before jolting in horror for a moment upon recognizing the broken corpse of the co-pilot draped across the middle of the controls console, blood everywhere and the upper half of his upper torso through the windows. She felt herself gag, the urge to vomit rising but she forced it down with a concentrated effort.

"Holy shit," she whispered, coughing. Thank goodness she was strapped in to the seat, otherwise she'd probably be decorating the cockpit with her blood as well. Looking away from the corpse, she glanced to the pilot's seat where Joel was supposed to be and was surprised and more than a little panicked to find that he wasn't there. Did he leave her? Did he think that she was dead? Where the hell did he go?

Quickly, she reached a hand towards the lock mechanism of her restraining belts over her chest. It took a little fiddling but she managed to detach the belts, freeing herself. Easing herself onto her feet, she made sure not to look at the corpse again, though it hard to ignore it in her peripheral vision.

"Joel?" she called his name, coughing as some smoke drifted into the cockpit and she waved her hand through the air to try and clear it. "Joel where are you?" There was no reply.

Although the cockpit was mostly and thankfully intact structurally, the interior was a mess, what with the broken parts, debris and dirt all around. Turning towards the door that used to lead to the rest of the plane but now simply opened up to the chilly outside, she limped towards it and found herself fascinated at the sight of the rest of the crash before her. Strewn all across the broken tundra where they had crash-landed were pieces of the Learjet, some burning with smoke rising in the air, most of the parts damaged and warped. The tundra itself had a new trench dug into it, a nasty and fiery scar on the earth. She could have died. Probably should have. Whether it was fate or dumb luck, she was grateful to still be drawing breath, albeit in a slightly pained manner.

"Joel? she called out again. Where the hell was he? He better not have left here there.

The nose of the plane, while scrunched and scratched up, remained mostly intact having detached from the rest of the fuselage. The body and tail of the plane didn't fare so well, as evidenced by the trail of wreckage behind the nose of the plane. She was amazed that they had survived at all, though since she hadn't seen Joel yet she wasn't sure, but she had a feeling he wasn't dead yet.

Looking around, she saw some mountains close by as well as far off into the distance. The tundra stretched for miles around until it reached the bases of the some of the closer mountains. From the looks of things, they had crashed in the middle of nowhere. Maybe if they were lucky there would happen to be some form of civilization nearby, but as she continued to stare out into the surrounding area she was starting to believe they wouldn't be so lucky.

She blew air out of her mouth and then carefully jumped down to the ground. Her injured knee buckled slightly and she hissed, face scrunching up in pain, but it held. She wasn't going to get far with it that was for sure. Looking back at the trail of wreckage she tried to spot Joel in case he was around, but couldn't find him. Adjusting her backpack so that the straps sat more comfortably on her shoulders, she limped around the nose of the plane. Maybe he was on the other side. But he wasn't there either.

Getting frustrated and a little nervous, she went to a nearby rock large enough for her to sit down on so as to take some pressure off of her injured leg and to think about what to do next. If she couldn't find Joel, she'd have to fend for herself, and while that was a daunting task she figured she could do it. How hard could it be to take care of herself in this tundra? She figured that the first thing she could do was to scrounge up any useful supplies from the wreckage. A part of her was afraid that it was still too dangerous to walk around the crash site since things were on fire and might explode, but she needed to find supplies - food and water especially.

Just as she was about to get up and head over to to scavenge, a familiar voice called to her and she instantly felt relieved.

"Ellie!" Joel was coming from the direction of the wreckage, a few cuts and scrapes on his exposed skin but otherwise he seemed fine. Slung over one shoulder with his arm holding the edges was what looked to be a blanket turned into a makeshift bag. "You're awake," he stated the obvious.

While she was happy to see him, she was also a little upset. "You left me alone."

"You were passed out."

"You could've woken me up," she replied quickly. "Or at least taken me out of there."

"I didn't want to move you too much in case you were seriously hurt," he raised an eyebrow at her, "Besides, it's safer in there than out here. What's the matter?"

She sighed. "Nothing. Nevermind."

They were silent for a time, Joel standing there with his pack and Ellie sitting on the rock.

"Are you hurt?" Joel finally broke the quiet that had settled.

"What kind of a question is that?"

This time he was the one who sighed as he put down the blanket bag, the sound of metallic items rustling around emanating from it. "Let me take a look at you."

"What are you..."

He had walked over to her and was examining her head now, apparently catching sight of the blood that was there.

"Ow!" Ellie yelped, flinching away from his hands though he held her strongly enough to keep her from moving much. "Careful..." she said in mild annoyance, then asked quietly, "How bad is it?"

He let go of her head. "Not too bad from what I can see. Shallow cut from something hitting your head during the crash, but that's all it takes for it to bleed a lot since your head gets a lot of blood pumping to it. The bleeding's slowed and it's already starting to scab so you should be fine. Are you hurting anywhere else?"

"I'm hurting _everywhere _else," she replied curtly.

"Ellie..."

"My neck hurts a lot," she admitted.

"Whiplash," he said matter-of-factly. "How bad does it hurt?"

She rolled her head a little to test her neck, wincing at the discomfort and slight pain. "Not too bad, really."

"It'll pass. Not much we can do about it anyway. Anything else?"

She pointed to her right knee. "My knee... hurts when I put pressure on it."

He crouched down and carefully held either side of her knee and she breathed in sharply in anticipation of the pain from his touch, though it wasn't too bad. "Tell me when it hurts more." He began to lightly put pressure on several parts of her knee, starting on the sides and moving inward. When his fingers touched her patella she hissed, the pain flaring considerably.

"_That _hurts..."

Joel let go of her knee and scratched his chin, eyeing the knee thoughtfully. "Well, you might have a fractured patella. But we won't know for sure 'til you get an x-ray..."

"And where are we going to find an x-ray, Joel? Do you happen to have one with you?"

He gave her a look. "Not now, obviously." He looked back at her knee. "Can you walk?"

She realized she was being a little harsh and relaxed slightly. "A little. I was able to limp over here from the cockpit with just a little pain, but..." she trailed off. She wasn't sure how she'd hold up walking for longer distances. She looked back at where she had dropped off from the cockpit, figuring that she had managed to get about fifteen, maybe twenty feet before resting on the rock.

He seemed to understand what she was getting at. Joel started looking around for something and Ellie was about to ask him what it was when he went off and grabbed some metal rods nearby before returning to the blanket bag that he had put together, taking another folded up blanket inside and tearing it up into strips.

"Are you making a splint?" she asked.

He grunted in reply as he walked over to her with his newly acquired materials. "We need to immobilize the knee, or at least try our best to." He paused as he knelt down in front of her, catching her gaze. "I'm going to need to rip off your right pant leg. It'll be easier that way."

She shrugged, not caring much. The pants were filthy and worn anyway. "Go for it." Ellie watched as he took out a very sharp knife that he had sheathed to his thigh and carefully cut up her pant leg a few inches above her knee. Once he got that off, revealing a large purplish bruise all over her knee, he wrapped the knee up tightly with one of the strips of blanket before setting up the metal rods and wrapping those tightly into place as well. It hurt every now and again while he was working, but she did her best to ignore it.

"All done," he stated as he stood, both of them admiring his handiwork. He gave a nod of satisfaction after looking it over to make sure it was good.

"Thanks," she said, unsure of what else to say.

"Well..." he let out a long breath, looking around, "I was hoping we could make for one of these nearby mountains. Get up and find a better view of the land. See where we might go."

She grimaced at the thought of making it up the mountain in her condition. That would hurt a lot, she was sure, and it would take a long time.

"But since you're hurt and it's going to rain soon," he continued, looking down at her, "We'll stay in the cockpit for the night."

She gave him an incredulous look. "You're kidding, right?"

"Why would I be?"

"There's like... blood everywhere. And that guy... I mean, he's dead." That was gross to even think about, living in a place where someone had just died and where that someone's blood covered half the place.

"There ain't a lot of other options, Ellie," he said. "If it makes you feel better I'll get him outta there and try and clean the place up a little."

Ellie looked up at the sky. "How do you even know it's going to rain? It doesn't look like it to me."

"I just know. Now stay put," he said as he moved off towards the cockpit.

She sighed. "Does it look like I'm going anywhere anytime soon?" she muttered after him.

-**xxxVxxx**-

Tommy came to slowly, groaning as he moved, feeling sharp pinpricks all over his exposed skin and hearing the sound of crackling and scratching glass with every movement. He felt gravity pulling him sideways and realized that the truck was flipped onto its right side. Still somewhat dazed, he faintly heard Sarah stirring in her seat. Half-turning he saw that everyone else was also starting to come to their senses. They were all still alive. That was a good sign.

Then he finally heard the screaming, the ringing in his ears fading. Looking out through the heavily cracked windshield, he saw people running for their lives. A truck that had gone into a telephone pole across from where his own truck lay had blood all over the inside of the windshield, the driver's side door wide open.

"Uncle Tommy...?" Sarah said blearily.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, careful to make sure he had a firm hold so that he wouldn't fall on top of Sarah. Small pieces of glass fell from where they had been resting on him as he moved down towards her and unbuckled her seat belt for her. "You okay sweetie?"

She nodded faintly, her breathing quick and shallow. "Yeah... I think so."

Glancing back to the other passengers he asked if they were okay too.

"I think we're fine. Just some cuts and bruises," Richard said as he looked his family over and his wife nodded to confirm.

"You see my shotgun anywhere? I tossed it back there earlier," he said and the other man looked around and then grabbed it from the floor, handing it to him. "Thanks. You have a weapon?"

Richard nodded grimly. "I have a pistol." That would do.

Looking back out through the windshield, Tommy said, "We need to get the hell out of here." Positioning himself so that he could kick out at the windshield, he told Sarah to look away in case any stray glass came flying. With some effort he bent his right leg and then slammed his boot into the windshield, eliciting a cracking sound as it gave a little, but held. On his second kick, the glass went flying a few feet forward.

While he was doing that Richard managed to get out through his door and was now standing on top of the truck, helping his family up. He and Tommy shared a look as people continued to run around them, screaming in terror.

"Come on, Sarah." Tommy stepped out of the truck and turned to help Sarah out, but not before someone ran towards him snarling much in the same way as the patient from the hospital earlier. He managed to get his arm out and halt the man's advance as he snapped at him with his bared teeth, blood and saliva covering his chin and the area around his mouth, staring at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Uncle Tommy!" Sarah exclaimed in dismay, pressing herself against the hood of the truck as Tommy fought against the crazed man, her eyes wide with fear.

Just then, a brick slammed into the man's head with a slight spray of blood and he went down limp. Richard looked at the now dead man and then back to Tommy with a troubled look in his eyes, both of them speechless.

"We need to get going!" Becky said then and both men snapped out of it and started moving, Tommy grabbing Sarah's hand and Richard grabbing his wife's.

All around them the town was in chaos. Fires were everywhere. Windows, doors, and even some walls were broken and damaged. There were people getting attacked by the crazed ones and of course everyone else who was running away from them, someone stumbling every now and again in their rushed panic.

They ran down the street, Becky carrying Ricky since the little boy wasn't fast enough to keep up with them all. Plus he was scared out of his mind and crying, and no matter what Becky said he wouldn't stop. As they made it to the next intersection a car driving a block ahead began to spin out of control and careened into the gas station on the corner, the whole place exploding with a tremendous force and a bright ball of flame, the heat from which could be felt all the way from where they were standing.

"This way!" Richard urged towards the right as they followed the crowd of people running.

They ran further into town where more buildings and even some people were on fire. Their screams of agony made him cringe and he felt Sarah's grip tighten on his hand.

"Uncle Tommy, those people... they're on fire..." Sarah's voice sounded numb.

"Don't look, Sarah. Just.. Just don't look," he said as they moved along, trying to ignore them himself and failing miserably. He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

They continued to run, all of them breathing raggedly by now. There was a theater up ahead at the end of the street and people were running towards it, but burning car rolled down the street ahead and several of the crazed people appeared, jumping on some of the people who had been fleeing that way.

"There's too many of them!" exclaimed Richard as he held his family close, a 9mm pistol out in his hand.

Looking around, Tommy spotted an alleyway and pointed it out to them. "C'mon! Over here!" He ran towards the chain link gate that barred the way and eyed the padlock that secured it. Letting go of Sarah's hand, he held the shotgun with both hands and raised it butt-side down before slamming the butt of the stock into the lock, loosening it. A second hit loosened it some more.

A gunshot sounded from behind him, making him and Sarah jump, his niece gripping his shirt for comfort. Richard yelled for him to hurry as another gunshot echoed.

Finally, a third hit broke the lock, which dropped to the ground. He swiveled the latch up and swung the gate open. "Everyone in!"

They all made it through and Tommy shut the gate, replacing the latch and hoping that these crazed people weren't smart enough to swivel it back up. Sure enough, one of them spotted the group in the alley and ran up to the gate, snarling at them as she tried to push through it to no avail. That answered his question and he was grateful for it.

"Ahhh!" he heard Richard yell and he turned to find one of the crazed people was attaching him, blood on his arm where he had apparently gotten bit. His pistol was on the ground and Becky was cowering with Ricky a few feet away, holding the boy close so that he wouldn't see what was going on.

Tommy immediately ran forward and swung the shotgun like a baseball bat, the stock crushing the man's face and snapping his head back, the neck cracking audibly as blood sprayed out behind the man from his broken face. He turned to Richard, holding a hand out to help him up.

"You okay?"

"He fucking bit me!" he yelled angrily, breathing hard and looking at the bloody wound. Those were definitely teeth marks. "But I'm fine. It's not that bad. Thanks for that by the way."

"We're even now," Tommy told him and the man couldn't help but grin at that, shaking his head in disagreement.

"No. I still owe you for stopping your car and picking us up back there. We might've been attacked by those crazies at the hospital if it weren't for you."

"Guys!" Sarah got their attention and she pointed to a chain link fence that blocked another alleyway that led to the alley they were in. Several of the crazy people trying to force their way through it, snarling and making guttural noises. Parts of the fence were giving way already, and they could see more of the crazies coming down the alleyway.

"That's not going to hold. C'mon let's get out of here," Tommy said and Richard quickly went over to his family, who were still shaking in terror and he tried to reassure them he was fine as they ran along.

The alley led to a restaurants outside eating area in the middle of the block between all the buildings.

"Shit! They're coming over the damn wall!" Richard yelled as he aimed and shot at one who was about to scamper over, making the crazy fall back the other side.

"Into the restaurant!" Tommy led the way, shotgun held firmly in his hands as he opened the door and ushered them all inside. As he was closing the door, three of the crazies managed to get to it and it was all he could do to brace against it and prevent them from coming in.

"Rich!" Becky caught her husband's attention as the man had kept going towards the front of the restaurant. He turned and saw Tommy trying to keep the crazies out and he ran back towards him.

"No! Stop! I'll... ugh... I'll be fine... Ugh... You guys keep going. Get... ugh... Get to the highway! I'll meet... ugh... you there," his speech was punctuated by his grunts as he pushed his back against the door, gripping his shotgun tightly with both hands. The crazies were clawing at the partially open door, growling, their hands reaching out attempting to grab on to anything.

"But..." Richard started to say as he stepped forward and Sarah was also beginning to protest when Tommy gave them both a hard look, snarling and waving his hand to shoo them away, "I said GO damn it!"

-**xxxVxxx**-

Sure enough it started to rain about an hour after Joel had finished and brought her back into the cockpit. A light drizzle at first, the rain fell progressively harder until it was pouring out there, extinguishing the fires that were still burning in the wreckage. She was grateful to be out of it, though the broken windshield of the cockpit was a problem.

Joel had covered it up as best as he could with any flat pieces of metal to act as a barrier, but water was coming in from the spaces he wasn't able to get. Not that it mattered much when the rain wasn't too bad but now that it was really coming down a lot more water was coming in.

Ellie was resting on the floor of the cockpit, since she couldn't get back into her seat with her leg in the splint that Joel made, her injured leg stretched out in front of her and her other leg bent up and supporting her chin as she rested her head on it with her back to the wall. A blanket was draped over her legs and she had to admit it was getting chilly and she was glad to have it. Shivering, she pulled the blanket over her some more as she glanced over at where Joel was sitting.

He was snoozing in the pilot's seat, not caring that he was getting somewhat wet from the water splattering into the cockpit from the leaks in his make-do windshield covering. Though it could also have been because he was already passed out and simply didn't notice. She had been watching him since he dozed off trying to figure him out, and once he was really under she noticed that he started twitching and mumbling, although she couldn't quite hear what he was muttering about thanks to the loud thrum of the pouring rain. Whatever he was dreaming about, it didn't seem to be pleasant.

The lone light they had was coming from a flashlight he managed to scrounge up amongst the debris. She was told not to keep it on for too long unnecessarily since it would waste the battery, but she liked the light, especially since it was pretty dark outside. He had also managed to find the storage cart that had the plane's snacks and pretty much took most of it that he could carry in the makeshift blanket bag. It was mostly chips, crackers, and nuts, but it was better than nothing.

The most important find was several dozen bottles of water and soda, and she had already finished two bottles of water and a couple of bags of chips since getting back into the cockpit. While she had been hesitant to go back in there, she at least felt better about it since he had cleaned up most of the blood and moved the body of the co-pilot elsewhere. And it wasn't like she had any other option.

A bright flash from the outside came through the cracks in Joel's makeshift barrier as well as through the doorway where he had managed to hang their remaining blanket so as to keep out the elements. A loud bang followed closely, the thunder continuing to rumble afterwards.

The bang had startled her because of how loud it was and it even woke Joel up with a start, the man leaning forward and blinking away the sleep while looking around with his hands gripping the armrests tightly.

"You mumble in your sleep," she remarked as his gaze traveled down to hold her own. "I hate bad dreams."

He sighed tiredly, rubbing his face and leaning back in the pilot's chair. "Yeah, me too."

"Do you believe in God? in Fate?" she asked out of the blue.

"What?" he said, taken aback by the line of questioning.

"Do you think that things happen for a reason?" she continued.

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious..."

He seemed hesitant to reply, "I..."

She looked expectantly at him. "Just humor me, Joel."

He finally answered her, taking his time, "Well, I... I used to believe in God. As for Fate and all that, well... the way I see it, if there was such a thing as Fate, then what the hell reason is there to have free choice? If everythin' happens for a reason... then... then choice ain't a real thing now is it? And that doesn't sit too well with me 'cause I like to think that I make my own decisions, my own choices, and that I'm not followin' some predetermined path."

She was impressed by his answer, not expecting him to really give her one in the first place. She could definitely see herself agreeing with that. If Fate really did exist, then free choice was just an illusion, because everything would already be predetermined. And what was the point in that?

"I see..." she said slowly. "That's a better answer than I was expecting," she admitted to him.

He glanced at her from over his shoulder, looking somewhat amused. "And what do you believe?"

She blew air out of her mouth. "I honestly don't know yet."

Joel chuckled. "That's a good answer too, Ellie."

There was a moment of silence between them before she spoke again.

"You know, even though we crashed our plane and barely made it out alive and all, I'm glad I'm out in the world again. It's been... a while... since I've seen the outside," she looked down at her injured leg. She was telling him the truth. Even though she had been terrifyingly close to dying and was currently injured, she was happy to be out of that terrible cage that had her in. Even eating the chips that Joel had brought was better than that stupid broth or the hard bread that they gave her day in and day out.

"How long were you in there?" he asked softly.

She didn't answer right away, thinking back to those awful memories. "I don't know anymore to be honest. Definitely more than two years already. Because I lost track when they started doing these stupid experiments on me, which was about two years after they got me."

"Experiments? What in the hell were they doin' to you?" His voice had an edge to it, angered by the revelation.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "Honestly, I don't know. All I know is the fuckers pumped me with drugs and a _lot _of other shit I think. Because I blacked out often in the lab and then I'd wake up back in my cell. That's how I lost track of time, and none of the assholes would tell me what the date was when I asked."

"Wait, you were there for... for two years _before _they started... experimenting?" He was having trouble saying the word aloud, unable to fully accept that they would do that her.

"Yeah. There were a bunch of us there in the beginning, but over the years we'd stop coming back from the lab, one by one. Eventually, it was only me." Thinking back to when she still had her friends there with her, she couldn't help the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She tried to control her breathing so as to prevent any sobs and managed to do so successfully. One of the reasons why she was afraid to be alone was because she felt so very alone in that cell for however long she was in there once her friends had all gone, even with all those guards around and the scientists at the lab.

"You mean there were more kids?" he asked somberly.

"They bought up the orphanage that I was at and they took all of us kids over to England, where they proceeded to lock us all up and take us away for experiments one by one. And there were other kids from other orphanages there too." A few tears escaped the watery confines of her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. In the dim cockpit though they were thankfully not noticeable, though the emotion was there in her voice. "They told us... They told us to trust them, that they'd take care of us. That we'd move on to better lives. And we believed them, Joel, right up to the point where they threw us into our fucking cells."

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, looking over his shoulder at her and in the dim light he could see the sadness on her face.

Ellie laughed bitterly. "Sorry for what? That I'm an orphan? That those fuckers took all of us orphans, treated us like dirt, and experimented on us? You didn't know. You weren't there. It wasn't your fault." She didn't tell him that she wished she had died in that research facility too like the rest of her friends. While she didn't explicitly know whether or not they survived, she knew that they didn't.

They used to all stay in the same cell block, some of them even kept in the same cells. The simple fact that they all never came back and how the scientists kept talking about how she was special and different from the others before her made her believe that her friends had all died because of their damned experiments.

Both of them were quiet for a while, thinking about how broken the world was. The rain continued drumming against the exterior of the cockpit.


End file.
